I never thought when I was in school or practicing gymnastics, earning black belts or teaching full time while getting a credential and a master's at night that the things most people in life are grateful for are the little things. I mean, I guess if I thought about it seriously, I would have realized that what endears me to Ben more than anything is when he takes out my trash telling me I shouldn't have to do that or when he installs a dishwasher or takes me out for ice cream or dinner. All of these "little" things are really what make life so special. So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when, at a party this weekend (2 parties actually), I heard Ben boast about how I make him a pie just about once a week. It's such a small thing, really, but in so many ways it's so much more important than anything else I could do. When did we, as a culture, decide that big accomplishments, events, and "stuff" were more important than the little daily reminders of our love to one another? I know that the best moments are when the family gets together on Thanksgiving and shares a delicious meal, or when I was a kid and my dad and I would watch episodes of Sherlock Holmes together. Just hearing the music from the theme song reminds me of the times we shared when we still lived at the Camellia house my dad grew up on. Or when my mom hosts tea parties--the time and thoughtfulness she puts into them to make the experience so enjoyable for our friends and family. These are the things people will remember us by.
I have a feeling that when I am old, Ben will look back on our life together and remember the fact that I baked him a pie once a week. Not that I earned a black belt or got a full scholarship to college, or paraglided off the Swiss Alps, or became a teacher at age 22. We will remember the quiet evenings alone together (and maybe the not so quiet ones we'll have if we ever have children). We'll remember the nights we danced in our living room to our favorite love songs, the cool evenings on the river fishing, the hikes we took in the blaze of a summer day, the laughter and the tears we will have shared. We'll remember the conversations which brought us closer together. And we'll remember pie.
