Blinders

A few weeks ago Frank and I traveled back to Fordham University for our 10-year reunion. It's crazy to think that we met on that campus almost 14 years ago. I still remember it pretty clearly...I was heading to check out a freshman-friendly bar with my new found friends and he and his friends were heading back from said bar after discovering it was too crowded. They intercepted us and somehow managed to convince us to hang out with them. Back at their room I distinctly remember the Scarface poster and Frank busting out a box of Raisin Bran and a set of silverware lovingly rubber-banded together by Mama Trapani. It's weird what we remember, isn't it?

Anyway, as I was reminiscing about the past I thought I'd share a memory that fits in perfectly with the whole "love is a lunchbox" theme. It's short and sweet and perfect on a night when I've just spent 15 hours with my children with no break and my husband is still at work...in other words, it's cheap therapy...smiling about the past helps ease the pain of the present. :)

The exact timing of this memory is slightly fuzzy, but it must have been shortly after graduating from college and moving to Jersey City with my two best friends. At this point Frank and I had been dating (almost exclusively :) for over four years. We were both working and saw each other on weekends and one or two nights during the week. In any event, one day Frank shows up and has a gift for me. It's not wrapped and there is no reason for the gift, but to this day it remains one of the best gifts ever. It was a pair of blinders, purple to be exact, and when Frank handed them to me he said, "I saw these and remembered you saying that the sun had been waking you up in the morning."

I had mentioned the sun issue once I think and it had been ages ago, so I was pretty shocked that he'd even taken notice. Looking at the blinders, it dawned on me that this simple gesture really did speak volumes. As unceremonious as it was, Frank had shown me more about his feelings for me in that brief moment than he'd shown on dozens of other more traditionally memorable occasions. I mean all those anniversary and Valentine gifts were great, but those blinders were in a whole other league. To this day the blinders have become one of my go-to memories when I'm in need of little relationship pick-me-up.

So, moral of the story is, take stock of the moments that truly count. Sometimes it's waking up to the dishes being done. Sometimes it's finding that your favorite show was DVR'd after you thought you'd missed it. Sometimes it's a new drain stopper (Patti). And sometimes it's a pair of purple blinders.