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Dear Reader,
Suzanne took the day off to celebrate her wedding anniversary, so today we're running "The Best Of."
"He loves me, he loves me not."
I was reading a book of love poems the other day, and it made me think about my husband. No, he doesn't write poetry, but he romances me every day with little things, and they feel like poetry to me.
Whenever he hands me a bottle of water, he always loosens the cap first.
If I wake up at 3:30 in the morning, he rolls over and says, "Suzanne, I taped one of your favorite shows. It's on the television in the kitchen."
If he knows that I'm going to take a bath, he offers to fill the tub for me, and he even puts a hand towel on the back of our old fashioned claw tub, so my back doesn't lean up against the cold porcelain.
When my husband fixes me an ice cream cone, sometimes he adds a surprise in the bottom of the cone. If I'm having strawberry, there might be one small dollop of chocolate at the very bottom with a splash of chocolate sauce, for the last surprise bite.
If I have a morning appointment and the car is near empty, or it got caught in the irrigation water the night before, he makes an early morning run to the gas station--fills it up and washes off the windows.
And my husband always seems to know before I do, when I'm going to be tired. Because when I head for the bedroom, I discover he's been there first. My pillows are propped up against the headboard, the corner of the sheet on my side of the bed is neatly pulled back in a triangle, and the lamp is turned on low.
It's my husband's way of bringing poetry to life. I'm one lucky woman. Ah... "He loves me--he loves me a lot."
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
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www.DearReader.com
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