Good Love

Did I tell you that she insisted on staying up all night with me so she could drive me to my 2am MRI appointment, and wait with me? She brushed off my appreciation, said she does shift work anyways it’s no big deal, but I know shift work actually means sleep is harder to come by, so giving it up means more.

Did I tell you she spent the night for the first time when my kids were home? It was a big first, one I wanted to wait for. And she was patient. And it was really nice. When we woke up she made us a big breakfast and helped me with my garage project. When we were doing dirty work (sweating and trying to un-do some of my ex’s not-so-handiwork) and I got overwhelmed and emotional she stayed steady and calm. She kept us on track, step by step, made me believe in the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt silly falling apart but she was generous with me, reminded me I was doing a tough thing, congratulated me when it was done.

Did I tell you she got her boating license? Because a guy at work told her about a great vacation he took with his kids, so she looked into it and passed the test and got all excited. “We can rent a houseboat!!” she said, sending me links to testimonials and boat FAQ’s and photos of happy families on board enjoying the sunshine. The kids can come, the dog can come too, it can’t be covid cancelled and there’s wifi for the teenagers… it’s a perfect plan. How could I say no? In June we’ll set sail and tour around, all of us cozy on a big ol’ boat, Max at the helm. (I’m already calling her Captain.)

I don’t have to tell you she’s a good love, the kind who leaves you better than they found you, the kind you cherish, the kind who makes you a bit bewildered. She’s the kind of love that inspires you to stare at her hands in adoration, stroking each finger, honouring each knuckle and tattoo, wishing you could hold on to this feeling forever. The kind of love that has you taking mushy pictures so you always remember these hands and how they loved you.