Windshied wipers

I wonder if this just happens to me.

When I'm in the middle of a rainstorm, the kind that you cannot see a foot in front of your car, windshield wipers are life savers. Litterally. Can you imagine driving without them? You thank God for inspiring whoever it was that invented them. You love them, you worship them. When the storm is over, you take a deep breath and continue the drive safely to your destination. Then you turn the wipers off. They just about saved your life, but right now, if you keep them working on a sunny day, they will most likely annoy you and you won't be able to see very well with them. You turn them off until it rains again, until you need your life saved again. You are not afraid to go for a drive in the rain because you know the car has windshied wipers. They are there. They will be there everytime it pours on you. They are just a click away.

I often feel that I'm a windshield wiper type of friend. When someone needs me, they call and I do everything I can for them. And after the storm passes, I get shutt off. They don't need me in the sun.

This used to bug me for the longest time... Until I started thinking and realized that being a windshield wiper type of friend is not that bad; it's actually an honor. And why is that?
Well, my friends have full lives; they have kids and husbands and jobs and all kind of duties they need to fullfil on a daily basis, as do everyone else. Life is hard, complicated, it sucks sometimes, and it's wonderful just the same. But life is, more than anything, busy for most people. And when the rough gets going... when something happens that you weren't really expecting, when it starts pouring rain over you and you feel you're going to lose it... it occours to you that you can turn that button on and the windshield wiper will help you see clearly along the way. Just like a good friend.

So I feel flattered that that someone can see me as a windshield wiper... someone they can always call on, because they know I will be there. I'm just a click away.

Guess who got a haircut!

To love someone.

I got home from my four week all american vacation last Friday night. As I left baggage claim, I saw my husband, shining bright with joy. On his hand he was carrying a beautiful arrangement of red roses, and my heart leaped. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder... very true!
After a four hour drive, we finally got home. The kids were ecstatic to see dad, and everyone was, simply said, happy.
As I entered the house, I first saw flowers on the kitchen table, then flowers on the countertop. There were flowers on the living room, sitting on top of each of the three windows. The dining room table was covered with candy, that had been carefully placed to shape a big heart. On some cardstock we read welcome home, with all of our names. Our bathrom window also had flowers, and it was cleaner than I ever saw it before. I then realized that the whole house was swept, moped, dusted, washed, CLEAN! Not one dish in the sink, not one crumb on the floor, laundry done, clean sheets in all beds.
I'm really not sure what to say as I write this. I kept thinking I was going to tell you all about my miserable 24 hour trip from The U.S. to Portugal, with all the frustration and madness that we went through. Extra cost for luggage, rude people, a carry-on bag (with personal, very special stuff) stolen, and oh what else, so much! But I choose to tell you about love.

I'm always saying love is a verb. My husband demonstrates it.