Today, in order that I could pick out my own noble fir, all of us went up to the mountain – except Hubby; he stayed back with his mother. That’s love.
When we got home, I found an e-card thanking me for all I’m doing with his mother (now that he’d seen first-hand). That’s love.
We took Ben the puppy to the tree farm. Lily knew Ben gets carsick, and we were going up windy mountain roads. She took him anyway. And a towel. That’s love.
The little lady takes a very long time to do things, and we must wait and supervise. And she needs looking in on quite often. That’s love.
It’s Hubby’s birthday, and because of the little lady, we surrendered a gracious invitation to spend the weekend at the Coast in lovely accommodations. That’s love.
The friends who’d invited us got emails saying yes, then no, then yes, then no… and they’re still our friends. That’s love.
Our December calendar is replete with parties and social engagements—some of which we will miss because of his mother. That’s love.
Some gatherings we won’t have to miss, because our teenager has volunteered to help with Grandma. That’s love.
My mother is advanced in years and has health problems herself, and she has volunteered to help with my mother-in-law as well. That’s love.
Hubby staying home from Christmas Tree day, our new son-in-law did all the tree sawing and carrying for his beautiful wife and his droopy mother-in-law. That’s love.
We’d invited friends for Hubby’s birthday, and they had already been hugely busy all day in the freezing cold—and still came over. That’s love.
Our 30-pound puppy was milling around under the table, and all that happened was jokes were made about the free hand-washing service being provided under there. That’s love.
There’s a darling Christmas Lights display on my front porch, complete with homemade faux fireplace covered in lights—thanks to a talented friend. That’s love.