My mom was married to my dad for almost 23 years.
She has been bringing flowers (twice a year) to his grave for 18 years.
This year, when she went, it was freezing outside and there was a funeral going on nearby so she couldn’t spend a lot of time trying to find his gravestone under the blanket of snow. Since I live closer to his grave than my mom, I offered to go back for her once it had warmed up. This past Sunday we went with the kids. We put the flowers on and I took the picture to send it to my mom.
The experience helped me to realize how lucky I am to have parents that loved each other like this.
18 years is a long time. Some people aren’t even married for that long. And still, she keeps going. Rarely do I hear about it or even know when she goes. She doesn’t Facebook or Instagram the photos. No one see’s the beautiful flowers or even praises her for going. My dad may see it from heaven or he may not. But she does it out of the overflow of love from her heart and to honor their relationship.
Sometimes love is like the movies–passionate, fun, exhilarating and new. But more often it is seen in simple acts of monotony–cleaning the dishes, changing a diaper, fixing a meal, or putting flowers on a grave.