Max has gotten me many presents over the past few years we've been together - antiqued coffee tins, bird baths for my garden, candies and chocolates, vintage steamer tins, a long-anticipated iPad, books and trinkets - but in all the time we have known each other, he has never gotten me flowers. 

Until last week.  My mom opened the door last Monday, the day after my birthday, to a woman holding a huge vase of the most gorgeous bouquet. Full of tulips and roses and lilies.  In an array of purples and whites and yellows and pale pinks.  For me.  From my dear husband.

I don't need gifts.  I feel celebrated when I get to spend quality time with those I love.  But I must admit my heart skipped a beat when I saw and smelled those lovely flowers.  They were, and are special.  

My first flowers from the man I love.