Here’s a confession: I love romance. I could watch Mr. Darcy walk across the misty field at dawn a million times, and I will swoon each and every time. As Elizabeth waits breathlessly for him to draw near, I find myself holding my breath too. And when he stutters, “I love, love, love you…” I swear my heart skips a beat.
While my husband may not regularly sweep me off my feet in Darcy-esque fashion, he does still woo me and win me in a myriad of ways each day. Whether it’s an unexpected text message, a lingering hug, or an above-and-beyond effort to help around the house, I feel regularly romanced by my companion of 22 years.
However, romance is a two-way street, and a few years ago I discovered the pleasure in being the one doing the wooing. One morning an email popped into my inbox announcing a concert that I knew my husband would enjoy. I immediately went to the website and bought us two tickets.
The show was two months away, so I eagerly began dreaming of how this concert could evolve into a romantic getaway. The show was being held in one of our favorite towns two hours away, so an overnight stay was a necessity. Reservations were made, but the plans were kept secret.
The week of the concert, I told him about our getaway so that he could enjoy the anticipation. The destination and concert were undisclosed though. It remained a mystery until we pulled up to the venue and he saw the marquee. It was such a delight seeing his joy.
The next morning I continued the surprise by telling him we were taking the Blue Ridge Parkway home. You see my husband loves to drive back roads while I prefer the shortest and straightest route home. He knew this was a romantic gesture on my part, and he didn’t argue.
Soon we found ourselves twisting along the mountain road, enjoying the stunning scenery. He even found an opportunity to woo me—pausing to take a photo by the sign for Cold Mountain, inspiration from another favorite movie of mine. Our romantic ride came to an abrupt halt when we reached a “Road Closed” sign and had to exit the Parkway.
We checked our GPS for alternative routes only to discover we had no cell phone coverage. His guess was as good as mine, so we chose a state route and began driving. Our romantic weekend suddenly turned into an adventure as we wound along a road taking us who-knows-where.
As the sun set, we realized that our getaway was going to extend an additional night. In the first town we reached, we discovered there were no hotel rooms available. We kept driving until we reached the next town and a hotel vacancy with our name on it. The next morning we found our way back to cell phone coverage, the interstate, and home sweet home.
Romance is a two-way street.
While I had done most of the planning for this getaway, I found that I felt full, romanced, and oh-so-satisfied when we returned home. I had enjoyed the planning of it, the secret-keeping, the surprising, and the adventure; my husband had felt seen, known, loved, and cherished. The experience was a delightful reminder that romance runs both ways, and it can be just as satisfying to woo than to be wooed.
Don’t miss this recent podcast episode from This Grit and Grace Life: Miss Independent: Can You Be Healthy, Strong and Dependent? – 047!
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