I have learned a lot about listening over the years. Not hearing, but listening. They are two completely different things.
Blake and I went on our first date on January 30, 2002. We went to an Italian restaurant, Johnny Carinos, and talked until they closed. Meaning, they turned the lights on and said they were closed. We were so busy talking that we didn’t notice that we were the last ones there. I wrote in my journal that night something like, “He really was interested in what I had to say. He really listened to me.” And that is when I knew he was my perfect match.
Over the years, he has continued to listen to me. Sometimes better than others. But on the important things, he has listened. Like knowing, when I am about to lose my mind and needing a break. Knowing that my secret dream is to open a bakery in a little nook of a small town and offer hot chocolate and treats and a calm atmosphere. Knowing that I love writing and literature and my favorite poet is William Wordsworth. Knowing that cala lilies are my favorite flower. Knowing that I want to live in Ireland and experience that green, lush country. Knowing that our family is my number one priority.
He listens and hears and cares about what I have to think.
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