There is a love song I sing along to at least once a week; sometimes in my car, sometimes while I’m writing, sometimes while I’m cooking dinner that reminds me of us.
And I will hold you tight
Like the moon in the arms of the sky
And I will keep you warm
I will build a fire in this house
And I’ll build a fire, you fetch the water and I’ll lay the table
And in our hearts, we still pray for sons and daughters
And all those evenings out in the garden, the red, red wine
These quiet hours turning to years
And I, I’ll wrap myself around your heart
I’ll be the walls of his heart
And I, I’ll keep a light on
To call you back home
This is our life. You build the fire and keep us warm, and I’ll be the walls and the light that calls you back home because that’s what marriage is, what love is. You be good at the things you’re good at and let me shine how I shine, and together we can make something especially ours out of the time we have together. I know I have a tendency to complain about how you build the fire (definitely how low you’d like to keep the fire in the winter) and you often think my walls are too rigid and wish I’d turn off the damn light sometimes to save some money, but still it works for us most of the time.
But all those evenings in the garden with the red, red wine laughing with our son and daughters have been the joy of my life. Happy Valentines Day, love. Together we’ve built all the most important and exquisitely beautiful parts of life, our kids, our home, our hopes and dreams for the future, and a relationship we’ve worked really hard for. Here’s to more than two decades of being each other’s Valentines. And don’t worry, I’ll lay the table because I know you hate going out to eat, as long as you bring me some really good chocolate because if you don’t know me by now, you will never, never know me, and that’s a whole other song to dissect.