Aside from the call to pick up someone else's shift these calls were alarming and comforting. I did not expect a morning wake up call, but did enjoy the distractions from a day focused on flowers, candy, presents, and sex.
I proceeded with my morning and headed out to Astoria. For those of you not familiar with NY, Astoria is north of Manhattan. I hopped on a train, walked a few blocks, passed a beautiful vintage car dealership (covered in snow...really wish I had pictures, but the poor camera died a few weeks ago), and ended up at a friend's house.
I met this woman at one of the stores, where I shop locally for fabric, almost daily. We hit it off, she's preggers now, and wanted me to teach her some prenatal yoga. Her husband is an artist, and their house is covered in cool 30's Americana vintage inspired art and furniture. We pulled up the carpet and rolled out our mats in their living room. I taught. We laughed. They relaxed.
At the end of the session we gossiped for a few minutes, and then I was back on my way home. On the ride back I thought about how kind her husband was to answer many of my graduate school questions, allow me into their home, and take a class with her, despite his horrible hangover and day off. I then thought about how caring she had been to make him feel the least uncomfortable, since he had never taken yoga before, or met me.
They are two very nice people. but equally as important is their relationship. After the class she mentioned how this was the perfect thing for them to do on Valentine's Day. She was right. It wasn't about what we were doing, which cost them a lot less than movies and dinner. It was about who she was with.
He cared enough about her to join, and she cared enough about him to have him there. They cared enough about me to take me under their, already multiplying, wing. And, I cared enough about them to make an hour commute there and back. It is these kinds of gestures, that describe love...not the red and pink candies in disguise.
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