I've been thinking about my younger years. A lot. My husband and I have been a couple since 1992 - I was 17 when we started dating; I just turned 41 this past summer. It's an incredibly amazing yet bizarre experience to share that many years with one person. To grow from child to full fledged adults. When we got together I didn't think we'd last through the summer (my track record was love 'em and leave 'em) but this was different. He was different.
In 1995 we lived in a small walk up on Lark Street in Albany. We were both full time students working internships without a spare penny to our names. We had a beat up car that would overheat every time we drove it. We would eat maybe one meal a day and it was usually cereal (thanks Cheerios). I always worried about money but somehow - even when it was super tight and things got tough - we made it through.
This morning I heard "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers. That song always makes me think of Albany and our time there when I worked part time as a waitress and he washed dishes on the side. One day, after a long shift, I walked into our flat and there it was. The biggest bouquet of balloons I had ever seen.
I stood, dumbfounded, for a minute. Then Chris walked in, smiling from ear to ear.
"Where did you get them?" I asked.
"The park. I was walking the dog and there they were - blowing down the street. I had to get them and bring them home for you."
It was the simplest gesture. A big bunch of balloons that completely filled up the small space in our kitchen. And it made me so unbelievably happy. All I could think about was the fact that when he saw them, he KNEW he had to have them. That I would be so excited to see them floating around our little apartment. That my joy was his joy.
It's been almost 20 years since that day.
I look at our lives now. We aren't rich by any means - but we have a nice house in a nice suburb. Our kids go to good schools. We both have fairly high paying jobs that afford us the luxury of vacations back to NY and side trips wherever our hearts desire in between. Money is no longer a daily worry or struggle and when we eat cereal for dinner it's out of laziness, not necessity. How things have changed.
Despite all the growth, accomplishments and advances we've made since then, I still remember that day with the balloons. Where despite our lack of money we still found little things that brought us together and gave us joy.
As I prepare for Christmas and the New Year - I think of this day. And remember how much a discarded bouquet of balloons filled my heart. Maybe, just maybe, there is more to life. Maybe love can be demonstrated through a simple act of picking up the pieces and presenting them as new. That after 24 years the little things that brought it all together can come full circle.
No other gift I've ever received - before or since - has touched my heart quite that way.
Thanks for the balloons - and the million other small gestures - that brought us together time and time again.
In 1995 we lived in a small walk up on Lark Street in Albany. We were both full time students working internships without a spare penny to our names. We had a beat up car that would overheat every time we drove it. We would eat maybe one meal a day and it was usually cereal (thanks Cheerios). I always worried about money but somehow - even when it was super tight and things got tough - we made it through.
This morning I heard "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers. That song always makes me think of Albany and our time there when I worked part time as a waitress and he washed dishes on the side. One day, after a long shift, I walked into our flat and there it was. The biggest bouquet of balloons I had ever seen.
I stood, dumbfounded, for a minute. Then Chris walked in, smiling from ear to ear.
"Where did you get them?" I asked.
"The park. I was walking the dog and there they were - blowing down the street. I had to get them and bring them home for you."
It was the simplest gesture. A big bunch of balloons that completely filled up the small space in our kitchen. And it made me so unbelievably happy. All I could think about was the fact that when he saw them, he KNEW he had to have them. That I would be so excited to see them floating around our little apartment. That my joy was his joy.
It's been almost 20 years since that day.
I look at our lives now. We aren't rich by any means - but we have a nice house in a nice suburb. Our kids go to good schools. We both have fairly high paying jobs that afford us the luxury of vacations back to NY and side trips wherever our hearts desire in between. Money is no longer a daily worry or struggle and when we eat cereal for dinner it's out of laziness, not necessity. How things have changed.
Despite all the growth, accomplishments and advances we've made since then, I still remember that day with the balloons. Where despite our lack of money we still found little things that brought us together and gave us joy.
As I prepare for Christmas and the New Year - I think of this day. And remember how much a discarded bouquet of balloons filled my heart. Maybe, just maybe, there is more to life. Maybe love can be demonstrated through a simple act of picking up the pieces and presenting them as new. That after 24 years the little things that brought it all together can come full circle.
No other gift I've ever received - before or since - has touched my heart quite that way.
Thanks for the balloons - and the million other small gestures - that brought us together time and time again.
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