It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it was given to me with love. My Christmas gift from the Man, who after 30 some-odd years has apparently finally realized that I like small, delicate jewelry.
I was reading a piece in this week's Washington Post about adults who never seem to find true love and there was a quotation from Diane Keaton's autobiography that really spoke to me.
“I never found a home in the arms of a man.”
I found that home long ago in the Man's arms. As much as he drives me crazy (and I know that's mutual, by the way), for all the times he doesn't "follow the script", for all the things that can go wrong between us, time and time again the moments come between us when I understand how lucky I am to have him. To have "us".
As one of Rumer Godden's characters said--and I've quoted it to people--why have romance when you can have true love?
I just have to stand there with our arms around each other and know that I have the thing that matters most in this world, something that can't be bought with elaborate Valentine gifts, something that is there with me through joy and sorrow, through everything wrong and everything right.
It's the one gift in the world I want my daughters to have.
It's "The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of"