love

Sunday morning Isak gave his daddy a canvas he’d painted – it’s full of swirls and colour (and an apple too, apparently) and is now hanging on the hall wall. Later in the afternoon we drove out to White Rock, had a casual lunch, and then took a long family walk around some of Markus’ favorite childhood places to explore.

On the way back home we drove out across the new bridge that just opened, right as the sun was going down and painting the sky. I also talked to my own dad long distance to wish him a happy Father’s Day. It was a very good day. I hope all the dads out there had a happy, well loved one with their families too.

♥ This is a Valentine for YOU. ♥

xo

^{(yes… click on that.)}

Things have been rough around the edges lately. Not between us, but with life in general. Obviously the curve ball of my surgery didn’t help, but there are other things pressing down too. One of these things is Markus’ father. I vaguely mentioned some health issues with family members, but the fact is his dad had a stroke the same day I went into the hospital.

They’re still not sure how extensive the damage was. Markus went to visit him once shortly afterward (the hospital he’s in is quite far away), but hasn’t had the chance to go back since. Work hasn’t given him a real weekend off in ages, he’s had to shoulder my slack at home, and there are little things from numerous directions piling stone after stone on him. He’s exhausted and trying to keep his chin up about everything, but he needs a break desperately.

Unfortunately, this afternoon his brother called to say their dad has taken a turn for the worse, so after a late night and a long day at work, he took a quick bath and is driving out there with Isak tonight. I hope things are better than they sound, because they didn’t sound good.

What does this have to do with love? Quite a bit. I love Markus fiercely, and I want to take all the Bad away. I want to jump up and be a big champion, sweep his pain and exhaustion out the door, but I can’t even manage a decent house cleaning.

I’m trying to do what I can, being supportive and listening if he wants to talk, but I feel somewhat helpless when it comes to the tangible stuff. I’d like to try to arrange a get-away as soon as possible, but it won’t be soon enough. I have to finish healing, we need a proper weekend free, and maybe we shouldn’t go too far right now. I just want to start pulling straws off the camel’s back however I can.

I guess my point is that love isn’t all honey and roses and sultry nights together, a huge part of real love is supporting each other during hard, painful, scary times. Being each other’s flint & steel when it gets darkest. I want our love to shine strong like that.

You have gilded my dash.

Yesterday I received a lovely e-mail from a graduate nursing student and Labor & Delivery nurse, working on a project for school (a powerpoint presentation on labor pain), wondering if she could have permission to use this photo of Markus and I that we took with the old camera (on a timer) just minutes before Isak was born. She found it on flickr and wrote me though the site.

I’m more than happy to let her use it. It also gave me an opportunity to look back over those first photos of our family and remember. The moment we took that photo is still so vivid – we were both wrapped up in intense love and fear and excitement, knowing our lives were both going to change so much, that we were about to meet our baby for the first time. I’m really glad she wrote me.

I passed this today.
It made me smile.

Grandchildren/Grandparents. I love the way watching my mom and Isak play together makes me feel.

when you’re both exhausted and he finishes up the laundry you started (and even hangs up your nice panties so they don’t melt in the dryer).

but so much sweeter…

Much like with love, avocados are better when you apply patience. I was reminded of this when I jumped the gun the other day and cut open one of two avocados that had been taunting me from atop the fridge.

I instantly regretted it, finding it hard and bitter inside. If only I’d waited it would have been delicious. I was very disappointed in myself for ruining a perfectly good avocado.

The other one? I waited until last night. I gingerly held it in my hand and could tell it was ready. When I cut it open it was perfect – oh, I’m fanatical when it comes to perfect avocados.

Markus loves them too. He’d declined to have any, but I could tell as I ecstatically ate spoonfuls that he was quietly regretting that decision, so I handed him the other half, which delighted him.

He said “really? Are you sure?”
I said “yes, because it’s a really good one, and I love you.”

He totally understood.
He’s a really good one too.