It's nice growing older

Happy Valentine's Day

Today we are having an afternoon holiday, which means that I can post the significant thought that I just had on the blog.

Here is the significant thought: It's nice to get older. It seems, to me, that life gets easier as I get older.

Here is why I had that thought: Last night, Rich and I stayed up late putting together little valentine boxes for each of the children. I had purchased all sorts of little treats at the dollar store the week before. Rich helped me assemble them and then read his book while I cut out hearts and put a short note in each one. Then, when Rich went to brush his teeth, I put out a card and a treat for him.

I had to do this last night because Rich gets up with the high schoolers and gets them breakfast and out the door to seminary (and on Monday, signed up for basketball reffing), and I sleep in.

Just now, Rich called from work. He thanked me for the note in the card. He apologized for not leaving a note for me. I told him that I didn't care. I know he loves me. I told him that my "note" was that he got up with the older children and handled the basketball sign-ups and breakfast and the laundry crisis that happened this morning and let me sleep in. I told him that I know he loves me because he does things.

And I really meant it.

Something about this exchange took my mind back 16 years to our second Valentine's Day together. I remembered, with a cringe, how mad I got because Rich completely forgot Valentine's Day. He finally remembered about three days later and brought me flowers, but I held this against him for something like five or six years. I said I forgave him but, oh, I sure didn't forget about it.

And yet, somehow, with the passing of time and the closeness that comes with weathering the storms of life together, I don't feel like he has to do something special on Valentine's Day to show his love for me anymore. Maybe it's about understanding his heart. Maybe it's about forgetting myself. Maybe it's about getting more mellow with age (even though it seems I am less mellow in a lot of other areas...) Maybe it's called maturity.

Anyway, it's nice, whatever it is.

It's nice to grow older with someone and know them so well that you know what is in their heart. It's nice to give them the benefit of the doubt and not waste a bunch of time pouting or angry. It's nice to just feel happy on Valentine's Day because I was able to do something for my family to show them I love them.

Well, and I could write an entire post about how wonderful my husband is and how much I love him. (But I already told him that in my note.)

Yep, it's nice growing older.