Just about a week before we left for vacation, on a cold Saturday afternoon in January, the doorbell rang, and when I peeked out the window, I saw a smiling woman standing on our doorstep, her hands cupped around a pink vase that held a spray of eight pink roses. Attached to a lavender ribbon encircling that vase was a cuddly little pink plush pig.
This was a very special delivery, but it wasn’t for me.
The message on the florist card placed in the midst of that bouquet was powerful in its simplicity. It read:
Happy Birthday, K
Every year, without fail, Mr. S has sent flowers to our daughter on her birthday. Always pink roses, always accompanied by a stuffed animal and a handwritten message on a tiny card. They always bring a smile to our little one’s face–and a tear to my eye. We admire her beautiful flowers and take the traditional Birthday Roses photos to add to her picture album. The only thing that ever changes is the number of roses so lovingly chosen by Mr. S and so artfully arranged within a pink vase that arrives on our doorstep. Each rose symbolizes one year of our daughter’s life, one year that she has blessed our lives.
From the moment he sent that single pink rose in a delicate bud vase seven years ago, Mr. S made plans to continue this magical birthday tradition–even if someday a different man sends flowers to our daughter, even after she becomes a wife and the mother of our grandchildren. But, without even realizing it, he did so much more on that January day so long ago. He laid a firm foundation of love for our daughter. He showed her that she has importance and value. He showed her how a man should treat a lady. He showed her that no matter what may happen in her future, there will always be one man she can rely on, one man who will always and forever remember her birthday.
If our daughter grows up to meet a man half as wonderful as her father, she will be a very fortunate woman.
Somehow, every day, Mr. S makes me fall more in love with him.
Maybe it his genuine kindness, or his ability to shed his harder masculine shell to allow glimpses of that softer interior (especially when it comes to me and our daughter) to show through, the fact that he is so sure of who he is, and so comfortable with himself, that he has the uncanny capability to love and be loved fully–and in ways that others may not understand. I don’t really know what it is, but he is awfully loveable! 🙂
He takes such good care of me. Over the years, I have come to rely on him more than I have ever depended on another person. He is strong and steadfast, my constant and faithful companion.
We find strength in one another. During the day, I rest my head on his shoulder, and at night, he rests his on my breast.
Our ANR has bloomed from within that love.
Those beautiful pink roses have done more than simply show an impressionable little girl the face of love. They have shown her mother some important things, too, and I have taken so much from a gift that doesn’t even belong to me. Those pink roses have been a constant reminder that every year that I have had the chance to share my life with Mr. S has been a blessing…and each grows sweeter with every passing moment.