The first flowers my husband ever gave me were from a dead woman. Maybe I should explain.
When my husband and I were first married, we worked in a nursing home. One evening after work, he arrived home with a bouquet of flowers.
“Where did you get those?” I asked as he handed them to me. We weren’t exactly rolling in money, and I couldn’t imagine where he’d buy flowers at ten o’clock at night.
“Someone died. The flowers were sitting on the front desk.”
“You got them from a dead woman?”
I wasn’t sure if I should be happy he brought me flowers, or a little creeped-out. But as it turns out, it was my husband’s first attempt at being romantic. It was a moment I would never forget.
The flowers were yellow and white, daisies and lilies, placed in a vase on our kitchen table, until the petals slipped away, and all that remained were long, thin stems.
It was a strange entrance into marriage, and the first time I realized what marriage was – accepting the other person for who they were, and celebrating every first together. Even flowers from a dead woman.
Marriage is a series of firsts.Firsts make our lives special, they are the ones we remember the most. Click To Tweet
Here are some firsts from my marriage. Do you recognize any of these in your own?:
-Our first apartment had a kitchen so tiny, you could twirl from sink to stove to fridge without having to take a step.
-The first time my husband baked cookies for me, they were salt-laden chocolate chip cookies, which required a few glasses of water after.
-Our first Christmas tree was purchased in a drugstore, a tiny Norfolk pine in a plastic pot, wrapped in shiny red foil. So little, it wouldn’t hold an ornament.
-The first gift from my husband was a bracelet with an inscription on the back.
-Our first car arrived with our first loan, and turned out to be our first lemon. It was also our first lesson in begging a bank to repossess said lemon, and in learning what to do when they refused.
-We celebrated our first child together (and our second, too).
-We bought our first house, and together, made our first attempts at home repairs. For the first time, we learned how to remove twenty-year-old layers of wallpaper, how to rip-out carpet, how to tile floors, and what to do when a kitchen faucet exploded.
-Our first pet was a dog that nearly choked itself when it wrapped its chain around our lilacs. It was also the first time we had to give a pet away.
-We watched children win their first competitions, as if it were our first time as well. We also watched them lose.
-We saw children get married, and grandchildren born.
-We saw new family arrive, and some leave.
-We moved across the country for the first time.
-We visited new states together, rode on a plane, a ferry, and are taking our very first cruise.
Some of these events are small, almost insignificant, at least to an outsider. But they are my firsts, my celebrations of life. What makes me, me, and my marriage to my husband, mine.
I love every first, every special moment, no matter how small. The thrill of a first is a feeling never forgotten. Firsts cannot be repeated. Once gone, they are gone forever.
Work hard to remember your firsts. Place them in your head like snapshots in an album. Remember the details, no matter how small.
It is your life, your significant moments. It is what makes you, you.
Celebrate them all. And if your husband brings you flowers, celebrate those too. Even if they are from a dead woman.
What are some of your firsts?