my treasure

You know that question you ask yourself sometimes… the “if the house were on fire, what would you grab” question? Obviously, the people are the first answer, but after that?  What is the most special thing?

For me it’s a little book.  What?  You’re surprised?  Uh.  I love books.  But that’s not why this particular book is my treasure.  This little book measures about 2×4 inches, has thin rice-type paper pages and is filled with silly handwritten bullets, half in my penmanship and the other half the slanted writing of my husband.

At some point in the beginning of our marriage, gratitude journals were all the rage.  I tried it out and quickly got frustrated with it.  But then I had the idea (I’m certain it wasn’t original) to have a journal my hubs and I would pass back and forth.  Every page begins, “I love you for:” and ends with three or four bullets written by yours truly and another few written by my man.

It doesn’t have an entry for every day but it does have a lot of days and it does cover many of the years of our togetherness.  I found it the other day.  It’s been in a drawer for some years.  But we picked right up where we left off.  When one writes, the other finds it on their pillow the next day.

It says things that don’t make any sense anymore but probably did in 1997 or 2007 when we originally wrote them.  Things like, “forgiving my depth perception problem,” (mine) and “praying for me with a bad work situation” (his).  For me, it’s all about the words.  Keep the chocolates and roses but gimme gimme gimme the words and I am a happy girl.

This little book filled with his words is the thing, after the people, that I would reach for first.  It’s the thing I would need if I couldn’t have his particular person any more. It is and he is my favorite treasure and, by dang, I’ll carry both of them down the fire ladder.

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