Fortune Cookie Confirmation

Coming down I44 today, Jack and I wove dreams of what we would like to do with a little  land some day. Feed out a steer. Have a few goats and chickens.  Greenhouses.  Self sufficiency.  I jokingly pointed out that he was already 51 and I was 41 so that we had better get on the ball and teased that I was having second thoughts about having married an older man.

In actuality, I might find a younger man but not one who loves me more.  This weekend was the perfect example of Jack's love for me and investment in our family. We were on our way home from a quick trip to see my grandparents in Bluejacket.  It's a good five hour drive away, depending on how many times we have to stop so we don't get to go often.  Jack Dear had a few days off this week and gave them up to be my driver and my grandpa's helper.

It was not a romantic trip since the kiddo slept on an air bed in our room. It wasn't even particularly lazy.   We just happened to pick the weekend that was slated for working cattle.  Jack's presence meant enough helping hands that  Grandpa and Grandma could watch and direct while my cousins and Jack did the labor.  It didn't matter that Jack was an in-law and that these were my cousins' cows and not his.  He spent the day cheerfully helping process the cows and calves, holding calves to be cut, worming, dodging crazy cows, untangling horns and fences all while slogging around in mud and manure.

He might have earned a break after the last cow scrambled from the chute, but he kept up being a family a man through the evenings. Years ago, Jack transferred all the old Wilson home movies to DVD, but we had never had a chance to sit down and watch them.  We had the chance now, so Jack spent his evenings tape recording my grandparents as they narrated the videos for us.  I am sure three hours of vacations, Christmas dinners, and horse rides got old, but I never would have gotten all the locations, faces, and dates right on my own and it was a joy to watch how big of a kick Grandma and Grandpa got out of those old movies as they relived their early years. I know he was probably worn out from tromping around in manure all day, but he gamely set up the recorder and soaked up some Wilson lore.

I cannot calculate the value of a man who every day shows his love to me and mine through not just words, but with his every action.  He was so patient with everyone this weekend.  The rain was miserable on the drive up.  Tempers flared in the corral.  Grandpa hurt too much to be cheerful company.  Bella was sometimes bored.  I was generally busy in the kitchen.  Through it all, including shoe shopping for Bell on the way home, Jack was ready with a smile, a kiss, a flirty pat, a laugh, a helping hand, whatever I needed, whenever I needed it . . . Even  if helping me meant he was really putting his shoes on to do go do a chore so my granddad didn't have to.  I think too many people never get past the idea of love being a sweet word connected to canoodling.  Jack can still make my heart go pitter patter with a look, but I think we would have a such a desolate life if that is all we had to offer each other.

On the way home, we stopped at a Pei Wei for lunch.  The slip of paper in my fortune cookie said "love is a gift that you can give again every day."  Perhaps some people would rather see "you will win the lottery," but I think I would rather give love and be given love in return.  I watch my grandparents with each other, the tenderness and care they show.  They may be in their late eighties, but, oh my, are they still in love.  That love spills into the way they raised their children, the way they hold their grandchildren, they way share their stories with their great grands.  This morning I over heard Grandma telling Bell "when your momma was little, we used to . . ."  And I stood in the hall, tearing up listening to them.  It's a family thing - it means that cousins help work cows and uncles give their nieces a ride on a horse. Watching Ben and Bell on a yellow horse reminded me a lot of Ben  riding his horse Babe with me when I was little.  I see the love my parents so carefully guard and nourish.  I see that love in the way my husband looks at me and  looks at our child, in his touch, in his word.   I look forward to a life of that kind of giving.