Just after dinner this Valentine’s Day, while we were in our Florida home, my wife caught my attention as I was washing the dishes. She beamed a beatific smile, flashing me a thumbs-up from her wheelchair.
Because she was robbed of speech eight years ago by a pair of severe strokes, there is no way to know exactly what she meant by it. It might have been: “Thanks for cooking my favorite meal tonight.” Or it might have been: “What fun we’ve had over these past few days.” Or it might have been: “I love you so much it almost hurts.” It might even have been her approval of the little solar-powered dancing flower I gave her at breakfast that Valentine’s Day morning, the kind of tiny gesture we both treasure far above grand displays of love.