He Gave My Roses Away

He loves me, he loves me not.

What does it mean when someone buys you roses, and then gives them away. More specifically, why did my husband buy me red roses, then give them to another woman?

Kindness.

My husband champions purchasing flowers for women. He’s told other men that they can afford them, then tells of the $3.99 flowers at ALDI. He’s told them that they should buy them. Often, the half dozen comes home and he splits them up between our daughter and me. I always get more. She probably doesn’t realize how special that is. I don’t think my father ever bought flowers for me. A generation ago, most men didn’t change diapers either. Glad that my husband did both, and continues to bring me flowers.

About a week ago, on his way home from work, he stopped by ALDI for milk. We were almost out. Milk was the only thing he was to purchase because of MJR. However he purchased roses too.

He called me on the way home and I misunderstood him to say he purchased onions and gave them away. I thought, “I did say we were out of yellow onions, but I still have red and told him not to buy any.” I began to listen more intently and asked clarifying questions when I realized he was talking about a woman hugging him. Over onions?

“How old was she?” I asked.

Then he told me again that he had purchased roses for me and that the older woman behind him asked about them. She was probably seventy. Phew. She said they were pretty and that they his wife must be a nice lady. My husband assured her I was. They had a pleasant conversation while checking out. My husband sensed she liked the flowers a lot, but she wasn’t going to buy any for herself.

While paying the cashier, he instructed the cashier to wait until he left, then hand the roses to the lady. The cashier immediately handed them to the lady and she was surprised and ecstatic. She thanked him profusely and said that it was the nicest thing anyone had done for her in years. In years!

Kindness.

I love that he gave my roses away! It felt appropriate for My January Rest, that they didn’t come home. I enjoyed the love he shared more than the love that buying the flowers for me meant.

While bagging the groceries, they continued to talk. They talked about me. He thanked her for the hug and she quickly said, “Would you like another one?!” He did.

When my sweet husband and I began to hang out, he was so stoic. He was like hugging an ironing board. His heart is warm and kind even if his personality is direct and task-focused.

He stopped and shopped again, and this time the roses made it all the way home. I now have red roses of my own, after a rough couple of days of circumstances and stress.

Kindness!

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