This handsome man is my husband.  He stands by my side and watches our kiddos on Saturday mornings while I’m out doing my craft.
Funny story, one of our first Valentines Days, he picked me up to go out to dinner. He was dressed nicely and I answered the door to him with his hands behind his back. Honestly, I was expecting flowers, because, well Valentines Day. When he pulled his hands out from behind his back he was holding…. a bucket of vegetables nestled in tissue paper. I didn’t really know what to think. Typically a girl expects flowers, or chocolates, or some other pretty gesture. I’d never put it together that we link these things because we think something along the lines of, “these flowers are pretty. He thought of me when he picked out these flowers. He thinks I’m pretty like these flowers are pretty.” I realize that reduces the appearance of my thought process down to something embarrassingly simple, and I have not excuse for that. I’d never analyzed before why I wanted flowers for Valentines Day.
HIS thinking was quite the opposite. He wanted to show me a thoughtful gesture, not like all those other dudes “running by Publix on their way home to pick up some flowers for their wife or girlfriend” (I’m guessing he assumed this appeared thoughtless to be done so last minute and without planning on their parts). No, he wouldn’t be like them (although he was because he was in Publix to get flowers when he decided he thought he’d be lame to do the same as every other guy), so instead, he selects various veggies that he knows I’ll be able to use for cooking, because he knows I like to cook. There are obvious flaws in this thought process, but in hindsight I can’t fault him for trying. The day he gave me this bucket of veggies, I didn’t think of any of that, 19 year old Sarah only saw, “veggies. Vegetables aren’t pretty. He doesn’t think I’m pretty.” (also a thought process full of obvious flaws, but… you know, 19 years old). I can remember literally chocking back tears  as I tried to tell wether or not he was serious with his gift.  When he looked at me with such care in his eyes, I realized he was. I had a hard time chocking back tears all evening. We ended up having a lovely dinner at a local restaurant.
A few months later I finally told my best friend about his gift. I’d been too embarrassed to share it in fear of what she would think of him. I know he meant well, but I just couldn’t help but have been hurt by it. I eventually told him how it made me feel and we moved past it.
As a gesture of proof at how far we’ve come since those early, emotional, naive days, he jokingly includes the ugliest root vegetable he can find along with beautiful flowers each Valentines Day. We laugh realizing how young were were, how ridiculous we were, how much life has changed, and how unimportant that event was in the grand scheme of things. <3