An expression of Love

When I first started dating Les he told me he wasn't romantic.  "What you see is what you get." was his response to my efforts for a romantic evening.  The first time we made love it was to the soft glow of a muted television.  I then introduced him to the flickering light of a candle.  He went out immediately and bought boxes on boxes of candles.  I kid you not, there were candles everywhere in his house.  They were stored in boxes in the kitchen, bathroom and of course the bedroom.  After his death his family asked why so many candles?  My reply?  He didn't want to be in the dark in case of power outage.  A better answer would probably have been he got a good deal at a yard sale.

No, Les was not romantic in the traditional manner.  He did not shower me with flowers and jewels.  For my birthday I usually got 4 new tires or maybe an oil change and tune up for my car.  But what I did get was the acknowledgement that whenever he was not with me, he was thinking of me.  That meant so much more than every few months receiving an expensive gift.  Seldom a day went by that he didn't have something for me.  My gifts were small but many.  He might have given me a rose he plucked from the bush as he walked in the door or a small rock he spied that was shaped like a heart because his heart belonged to me.  On days that he went yard selling my gifts were abundant and varied.  He bought me a brass figurine of a cat because I love cats, a porcelain rose, pretty earrings, a vintage hat, a cute teddy bear and of course candles.  He knew I love tea cups and tea pots.  My house is covered in them.  I had to tell him him to stop.  I was out of display space.  Please, no more.  But still they came.  He just had to buy it.  "Look on the bottom, the maker was a Hall."   His name was Hall and he didn't want me to ever forget him.

The best tangible gift was the enormous rock he dropped in his front yard.  That he explained was my "love rock".  If his love could be weighed it would weigh a ton.  He was a construction worker.  On one of his job sites this rock was unearthed.  He had his buddies help him load this monster boulder on his one ton Dodge Ram truck.  He wasn't sure the truck was going to make it home. He swore there were times the front wheels weren't on the road due to the weight in the back.  The day he died, I sat on my love rock and wept.  Not for him because I knew he was no longer in pain, but selfishly, for me.