When You Can’t Hire a Goose

I’m all for big, flashy romance. When my husband proposed to me, he went all out. He took me to the finest restaurant in town—a place where the servers wear ties and the linen napkins are so fancy they don’t trust you to actually touch them yourself.

After the main course and before dessert, Brian gently took my hand and escorted me out to a bridge overlooking a pond. Slowly he bent to one knee, looked up into my eyes and asked me to be his wife. He placed an engagement ring on my finger as I whispered, “Yes, oh, yes!”

When he stood, we look-ed out onto the water. There, perfectly positioned, sat two Canada geese nestled close together just below us. “Did you pay them to be here?” I said, giggling.

He held me close. “Oh, yes . . . ”

Brian and I have now been married for more than a year, and the sweet memory of that night stays with me. But keeping the romance alive is a little different now. Everyday life doesn’t lend itself to untouchable linens and hired geese. Communicating our love to each other these days is all about the small things.

Last week Brian traveled on business. The third day he was gone, I checked the mail. Inside the mailbox was a card. “Love, I miss you. Just want you to know I am so blessed to have you as my bride. I love you, Brian.” Twenty-three words. Ten minutes of his time. And there I stood, grinning, blushing and goofy in love.

I try to offer Brian romantic moments as well. I leave phone messages on his voicemail, whispering sweet nothings into the middle of his day. I bring him coffee and a kiss in the morning or fix him a hot breakfast when he’s expecting cornflakes.

Sure, not quite the same as filet mignon, trained geese and a starlit evening, but each small kindness builds upon the other, giving our love a firm foundation to last a lifetime.