Quite a while ago I published a blog post lamenting the loss of some of my favorite fall and Halloween decorations. It was a blow. Really. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Then again, it probably was. Mine, in fact. I moved out of my old house and my former husband moved back in. I left behind some items to be donated, and he took them. Apparently my decor was in the mix, somewhere. Sad story, right?

Except that it has a happy ending. He never dropped off that box. He delivered all the other donations, but he figured that someday I’d want that box. He even asked me about it, but I thought he was talking about some old junky plastic stuff, not things my son had made and ceramic items that I really like and handmade decorations. I told him to just get rid of it, but he didn’t. He put it aside. He even moved it when he sold the house and moved out. Then he moved it again.

Eventually that box came up in conversation, and I told him how I regretted telling him to get rid of that stuff. He smiled. He told me he had it. I was shocked. I actually cried. I know. I’m a sap. It’s just stuff. But he was kind. He wasn’t vengeful. He knew I would want it and he kept it. He delivered it a short time later. I appreciate that, more than he’ll ever truly understand. I knew there was a reason I married him in the first place. There were lots of reasons, in fact. It was nice that he reminded me. Happy Halloween.