Darling Sylvia,
Grace notes are musical ornaments. I was introduced to bagpipe grace notes during the fall of 1970 by Charlie Russell, lead piper in Saint Paul’s Irish Pipe Band. He taught me how to use my right pinky to flit across the bottom hole of my chanter, adding grace notes to Scotland the Brave. The presence of grace notes elevates the pipe’s playing above the ordinary. In our 54 years of marriage, I know that it is the grace notes (little things, actions, and habits) that take our love above the treble clef.
Grace notes, intentionally made to honor you, me, and our we, make all the difference. We have learned to name and honor the intentional grace notes that nourish us. My grace notes to you include not being afraid to tell you I love you. I learned to say I am wrong (out loud) and that I am truly sorry that I hurt you. I gladly apply Aspercreme to your beautiful body before you go to sleep. The last words I say to you at night are, “I love you, and I am the luckiest man in the world.” I am so glad we met at Alma College. I make gestures to tell you that you count. I pick up my clothes–and put them into the washer. I take the garbage out on Sunday night. I open car doors, set a pretty table (flowers, wine glasses, and scented candles), and hold you in my arms when you are missing your dad or mom. I try desperately to be thoughtful because I honor and cherish the person you are.
Your grace notes for me include putting my pills together and reminding me to take them. You remind me when the remote check of my pacemaker is due. You take me on Harbor Freight dates and buy drill presses and tool boxes. You lay out clothes for me to wear so that I will look hot for an old guy. You cut my hair and trim my mustache. You let me not be strong. I can cry and not be embarrassed. You laugh at my jokes and buy me beer even though the taste of it disgusts you. You keep the books and do the taxes. You remind me when I am over the speed limit where the police in Waleska hide.
We both play grace notes to our we. They include holding hands in church and doing our Upper Room together after breakfast, folding and putting away laundry, and sitting side by side on our love seat at the Waleska Farmers’ Market. We shop together at Aldi for cheap wine. We fast together before early morning blood draws. We offer extra ears at way too many joint medical appointments. We do Weight Watchers together. We make sure we get our two-night-away adventures every three months and celebrate them on the refrigerator Growth Plan. I am so glad we found each other.
Love, Your Lover Bert
What are the grace notes in your home? How do you and your mate honor each other and grow your joint we?