Love is…

Remember that creepy “Love is…” comic strip that started in the late 60’s? Oh wait, maybe you didn’t think it was creepy (and if you read its history, I admit it’s kinda sweet). But come on. The characters, a cherubic man and woman are always naked! And not in a sexy way. Maybe I was too young when I first saw it but it always freaked me out a bit and it certainly didn’t define love for me. Ah, but that’s just it, isn’t it? What is love…to you? I don’t think anyone would argue that it changes over time. And if you’re lucky, it changes for the better. But then, how do you define “better”?

When my husband and I first met, he did the most romantic things. I traveled a lot for work then and not a trip would go by that I didn’t arrive at my hotel to find some treat arranged by him. It might be flowers, or chocolate covered strawberries, a bottle of wine, or my favorite, a single red rose and a bottle of Miller Genuine Draft. He always managed to talk the hotel staff into writing a note to go with it. I think it was his soft-spoken English accent that persuaded them. It was the late 90’s and we didn’t text then, but he would send me faxes with drawings of dolphins or hearts, or some other thing that meant romance to us.

Fast forward (or in today’s parlance, scroll ahead) 13 years, and today I see romance differently. Now if he sent me flowers while I was traveling I might say he shouldn’t spend the money on something like that. The other day it hit me. As I reached into the medicine cabinet for my days-of-the-week pill holder, which we use for vitamins…this is love. Each week my husband refills that holder, and one for himself, and replaces mine in the medicine cabinet. I never have to think about it. I just reach in and there they are. Why is that love to me? Because it shows he cares about our health, our future, and he’s done something to make my day just a little easier.

Okay, so you might not find refilling the vitamin container romantic. If you asked my mom what love is to her, she might tell you a sweet story about my dad and a York Peppermint Pattie. What says romance to you? Or realizing romance and love have different nuances, what says love to you?