On Valentine’s Day, love is flowers, a box of truffles, a nice dinner, a romantic movie, cute stuffed animals, chalky candy hearts with dumb things written on them like “TXT me,” sappy (but nonetheless true) cards, jewelry, and pretty much anything that’s colored red.
On this day, love is things. Gifts. Trinkets. Presents. Chocolate. Last-minute purchases at whatever store happens to be on the way home from work.
But every other day of the year, love means even more. Every other day, love is…
Reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear fifty times in a row, and that’s just before lunch.
Spending date day bailing out sewage from your basement together, one five-gallon bucket at a time.
Sharing your most prized tennis ball with that strange screaming creature that recently made its appearance in your home.
When the lady who owns the laundromat is so happy to see you that she runs the length of the business to give you a hug.
Telling someone who doesn’t want to hear it that you’ve done all you can for them but they still need more help.
How people keep driving their automobiles past you, just so you can delight in the presence of “A CAH!”
Hand-delivering donuts without being asked to the home of a new mom who just really wanted some.
Getting together for a whole day with a friend you haven’t seen in years and not running out of things to talk and laugh about.
Taking your medication every day even though you really don’t want to.
Spending three hours on Sunday morning making coffee for your church so they can stay awake to enjoy the service you’re missing because you’re making coffee.
Putting pressure on a laboring mom’s tailbone for hours because it helps.
Not moving your arm that you can’t feel anymore because someone fell asleep on top of it.
Spending an entire weekend making pirogi from scratch to feed to your friends, just because.
Not counting a kid’s tardy because he was honest with you and told you that he was late as a result of “talking to the ladies.”
Saying hard things that are true and listening to hard truths.
Having a child run joyously into your arms.
Sitting through numerous excruciating piano recitals and band and choir concerts, and eventually sitting through awesome ones.
Listening to the same song over and over even when it’s not your favorite just because someone else likes it.
Playing peek-a-boo via Skype.
Buying Lucky Charms for your grandchildren to eat whenever they come to visit, even when they are 30.
Being kind to your spouse because she is unspeakably sad for no reason even though she yelled at you – also for no reason – ten times today.
Being willing to sometimes put down your book and go outside for a hike.
Passing the same hideously awful gift bag back and forth for years at every occasion because you can.
Sharing your chewed-up sandwich with the dog, against strict orders from an adult to keep that food in your mouth.
Writing on a student’s essay that it “lacks nuance and sophistication” because it, in fact, does and she definitely wrote it the night before.
Realizing that writing events on the calendar is not the same as – and does not equal – telling your husband about them.
Demolishing an old, ugly (insert room of your house here) and fixing it up again.
Making the same dessert for every potluck dinner for six years in a row because you know you’ll get yelled at if you don’t.
Being the absolute best at your job, whatever it is.
Sneakily giving your nieces and nephews money with instructions to spend it frivolously.
Having a dog cuddle up next to you (okay, or a cat, if there really are cats that do this sort of thing).
Not holding it over your wife’s head that the two of you didn’t get to visit Nantucket on your honeymoon because she injured herself playing putt-putt.
Shoveling the entirety of a shared driveway without complaining to the neighbors with whom you share it.
Eating food with no variety because your wife is picky and also not a great cook.
Driving nearly two hours out of your way to take home an ill coworker so she doesn’t have to take public transportation while she’s sick.
Letting the baby turn multiple pages at a time in a book even though for once the book actually has a plot and he’s missing key points though he doesn’t seem to care.
Feeding your kids’ friends at all hours of the day and night.
Understanding that your dates in college end by 9 pm because your girlfriend needs way too much sleep.
Spending part of your summer teaching your 28-year-old friend how to ride a bike.
Knowing all the words to the songs your friends write.
Asking someone how they are doing, and then asking again until they tell you the truth because you genuinely want to know.
This – and so much more – is love: the everyday of every day.
It is forgiveness. Compromise. Truth-telling. Trust. Listening. Time. Community. Perseverance. Courage. Self-discipline. Patience. And grace. Endless stores of grace for us all.