The previous post made me recall a cold winter evening last year when Ed and I were enjoying a fire in the fireplace, our novels, and some Vivaldi. I'm a little restless so after a while I had to entertain myself because Ed was pretty engrossed in his latest book, Edgar Sawtelle (by David Wrobleski). Of course I got out my camera.
I love Ed's hands. They are big and rough and scarred from hard work, and yet they yield the most tender touch. I love that he wears my ring. And I love how cooperative he is with all my restlessness and projects. My mind thinks of about twelve things at one time and I suffer from insomnia as a result - I can't get my brain to quiet down and rest. I always have about five or six projects in the works, some of which require his participation and some of which require his patience because of my involvement. I think it speaks volumes that, no matter how many wacky things I come up with, how many times I paint a room, how many photo shoots I think up and try, how many recipes I want to try, or how many times I ask him to move a plant in the garden because I got in a hurry the previous spring and didn't plan well, he jumps right in there and is truly my partner in all things. He just wants to make me happy. Ed is so much better a person than I am. I am learning from him to be less selfish and I'm learning from him what it truly means to love someone unconditionally. And I consider myself just the luckiest and most blessed woman to have the privilege of sharing my life with him.
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