Brown paper packages, wrapped up with string.

I was cleaning out one of my bathrooms this afternoon after a long soak.

I wound up taking a hot bath. It’s the same thing as a regular bath, but it had me in it. Regardless of the bath that I took, I was cleaning up after the fact and I stumbled on something.

I found a little test vial of perfume that my wife had acquired somewhere. Being curious, I opened it up and took a sniff.

I was hit with a powerful wave of nostalgia.

When Andrea and I were still dating, I took her out to dinner as a surprise. After I had called her up and told her to get dressed (I insisted she wear a dress this night), I showed up to pick her up. She was in the bathroom primping her hair. She took a small spritz of some perfume that was either hers or her mothers, I’m not sure whose, but she smelled delightful.

Now, we have since moved on to other fragrances and scents and the one she wore that night seemed rather forgettable. It was nice, but nothing poignant.

Well, fast forward 10 years and here I am standing in the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, holding a little glass vial that smelled just like that amazing night where marriage to my wife became an actual consideration.

I stood there for a moment amidst the steam and musky scent with my eyes closed remembering how I drove in circles through different neighborhoods before making the trek to Keyport all while my beautiful companion sat there looking radiant, smiling big, wearing an old scarf as a blindfold.

Now, I sit here typing this, a whole half a country away and a decade passed from that amazing night.

This is where my post becomes relevant. I provide you with the following:

–          Gentle scratches behind my ears.

–          Pulling socks off of her feet after an exceptionally long day.

–          Kissing a head of thick curly hair as I sit a plate of scary food in front of her.

–          Lying in bed feeling the warmth of a sleeping body mere inches away.

–          Repeated attempts to get my attention for something simple.

–          Being told to get two sodas while I’m up.

–          Cold hands under my arms after standing outside for 20 minutes.

–          Sheepish looks as I open the door to pass off a towel.

–          Quiet content silences with the constant hum of road noise.

–          Scratching through 4 pounds of hair after taking out a scrunchy.

–          Quietly opening doors and bursting out into very loud singing of a song I made up seconds previous.

–          Giving dumb looks while repeating “We can be friends” till one of us gets mad and storms off.

–          Quietly laughing while I watch her dance like a lovable fool to some random J-Pop song.

–          Sitting quietly, mentioning a seemingly random single word, and laughing hysterically for the next 7 minutes

–          The Game.

–          Being asked if she can run the vacuum after I have spent 2 hours cleaning a space.

–          Late night web chats.

–          Having an argument one night, then her waking up to flowers, a clean living room, and 22 new pictures on the wall.

–          Standing together staring at our children trying not to laugh as they attempt to be serious about something trivial.

–          Arguing over where we should eat. (You pick something. How’s Taco Bell? No, pick something else) …. The fu?

–          4 boxes of green AMP and none of them being cold.

–          Cold amp when I get in to the car.

–          Sharing a plate of spinach Artichoke dip.

–          Trips to the Soo.

–          Socks aren’t optional!

–          Sharing a laptop on a couch browsing FailBlog.

These aren’t big things, and some seem so trivial.

But, the point of everything that you have just read is this…

 

These are the things that I miss.

It’s going to be 11:11 soon, I need to go set my alarm so I can make my wish.

 

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