Maybe not for the first time, and I pray not the last, I received the most perfect gift I have ever been given. Yesterday, I received a package from Afghanistan. Some of Steve’s stuff he’s sending home early. In the box was his book collection (he’s an uber-nerd and I love it), a few random things, decks of cards, a card from a 6 year old boy and some paperwork. But also inside the box, a special surprise for me. It’s a beautiful leather-bound journal from Afghanistan. Handmade, clothlike paper, with the most beautiful design: a horse with an English saddle, beautiful patterns all over it repeating and bound together with a thick and strong string. To close it, the cover must be put down properly and the string wrapped around it a few times, looping it at the end to hold. The best part is that he wrote in it for me. I never asked for a journal and although I know he knows I write and search for the right thing to write in, I don’t think I fully expected the kind of heart he really has. This just proves it.
I’ve never had a guy before who really knows me. He knows that I love postcards from random places (I got another yesterday) and he knows that I love to write and read and that my dreams are more creative than practical. He knows I’m emotional and have issues and that I don’t really know a lot of things that other people know. He knows that I just dream of happiness and love and that if there are struggles in every other way, it’s ok. That I don’t need the fancy car or a ton of shoes (although I do have a boot thing going on), all that I really need is a book, a place to write, a camera (ok I really like my laptop and I like my phone, I’m was raised in the 90s, what do you expect?) and that it doesn’t bother me to sit outside in the middle of nowhere and just watch the clouds pass by. Sure, I am an adventurer, there is no other way to explain my life and my continued faith in a good outcome. I thrive with adventure as much as I enjoy being boring. I need a balance in my life. I feel I don’t get enough adventure anymore and when I do, the fix doesn’t seem to last as long anymore. I hope that changes.
Right now I’m riding the high of receiving the journal and the letter and postcard, He has a heart of gold and I hope I always keep that in mind and never forget and disappoint him. It’s my worst fear these days… I didn’t write this in my new journal because the words in there should be more beautiful. It’s so beautiful that everything in their should be an effort to create something beautiful, something lasting, something real and profound… I said an effort.
Well, I should go. Early morning “Mom” duties are calling. My kids should learn how to sleep in.
No comments:
Post a Comment