On Christmas Day, 2021, my husband made me cry. Not bad or mad tears, but happy grateful tears. We have been blessed with a reasonably compatible relationship (thanks E-Harmony) and we rarely argue. The few times we do argue it is normally due to parenting styles and pressures related to special needs parenting.

Nevertheless, 2021 was a long year, and parenting during the Pandemic was exhausting. I was missing the romantic parts of new love: quiet dinner dates, outings without children in tow, movie nights that begin before 930 in the evening and don’t involve falling asleep halfway through.

We were preparing to put our house on the market and honestly I wasn’t expecting much for Christmas due to financial pressures. Anyway, when I unwrapped my gift, it was this framed painting (picture below). At that moment I started sobbing.

There’s a story behind this painting. My Nanna painted it for me when I was a teenager. It is of the lane where she and my Grandad lived, and where I walked many times with them during my visits.

My grandparents are no longer with us. The house and garden they called home had to be sold after they died. It was sold to a developer and on that plot of land there are now two large modern houses built. The large garden they laboured in and the workshop from which my Grandad ran his business are all gone. Apart from memories and photos, this painting represents all I have left of my grandparents.

This painting, hung in our maisonette when we got married, and then in the house we first rented in South Wales. When we bought our first home, I hung it up again. But the plaster in that house was very old, and one day the hook gave way. The frame broke and the glass smashed.

I was, naturally upset. We put the painting away in the cupboard and planned to re-frame it as soon as possible. But we were newborn and toddler parenting and life was busy. Then we found ourselves dealing with parenting during a pandemic and figuring out how to manage our undiagnosed autistic daughter.

So when I unwrapped this painting, re-framed for me, I was undone by the thoughtfulness of my husband. He knew how much the painting meant to me and got it re-framed.

His thoughtfulness is demonstrated in many other ways too, whether it be late night dish-washing, cooking dinner, or baking cake for a church function. He may not always think to give a compliment but he is certainly thoughtful in other ways.

Dining out and attending concerts can be very romantic and enjoyable things. Receiving flowers is always nice too. But true romance is much more than that. True romance is demonstrated in a thousand small thoughtful daily choices.

I write this to honour my thoughtful husband, John.

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
1 Corinthians 13:4‭-‬7 ESV