I just had to. There's a series of about four or five for this blown kiss, of which these are the last two. It morphed into another series where his finger is up his nose... you know, natural progression... it was so close!
This is my ring, both engagement and wedding. He had it enlarged a couple of years ago, but I still haven't been able to wear it for a while now. I sure would like to again!
He had it made for me -- a surprise -- by an artist friend. The pearl and some of the gold is from a beautiful ring that was his mother's. The sentimental, family heirloom gathering, I'll never meet my mother-in-law part of me had a brief moment of profound sadness when I learned that it was sacrificed, but there wasn't much to be done about it after the fact. And this one, well, it's sort of breathtakingly spectacular!
I experienced no sadness whatsoever about the sacrifice of the ring from his first marriage to the cause.
When he gave it to me, I immediately noticed and commented on the fact that in their work the man is bending forward while the woman is bending backwards and just what's that supposed to mean, but I laughed... and continue to laugh.
The pearl is rather hideously glued at the moment, but it fell out once and, well, it's stuck pretty good again. It's sort of a funny story (now) from quite a few years ago -- when the girls were little and my house was seemingly carpeted with Barbie shoes, Legos, Polly Pocket paraphenalia, and beads -- lots and lots of beads of all colors, shapes, and sizes. I was in a hurry one day and kicked a bead to the side with my foot on my way through the kitchen. It was one of those things that I did without even thinking and, to be completely honest, I'm amazed that it even registered, but when I discovered a few hours later that the pearl was missing from my ring, I knew! That wasn't a stray bead, it was my -- his mother's -- pearl!
Sunday morning coffee. This is the mug I gave him when we got married, that used to say "I *heart* My Husband," but after 26 years of near-daily use and washing, the lettering has faded to bare visibility and only the heart remains vivid.
His chair -- it's a Barcalounger, fashioned in the Craftsman-style, that I gave him for Father's Day many moons ago. Next to it is a small sewing chest that he gave me many, many moons ago, and that, even though it still holds my stuff, somehow became his chair-side table.
He wakes every morning, starts a pot of coffee, then sits in his chair to read for a while. Duncan is usually already there, but gets up and waits on the arm of the chair and then snuggles in on the lap.
I've received cards for all the usual occasions -- birthday, anniversary, Valentine's Day -- and also to mark the seemingly mundane but actually quite momentous occasions such as finishing construction of the garage.
Tough topic, as MANY "gifts from the heart" spring to mind -- an annotated book from Maddy, "heart in a box" from Katie, the bleeding heart "slide" from Ali, "String of Pansies" from my sisters -- just to rattle off the top of the list. It makes me feel very lucky and loved to have such thoughtful and creative people giving me things like that!
Fourth of July last year: Mom with my youngest sister, Annie, and my two young nephews... who were both getting pretty tired right about then. Not the greatest photo on many counts, but it always draws me in... I love the love here.
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