Cam at East Point wind turbines - SummerAs recently noted, we’ve been busy and have been doing a juggling act between businesses, home renovation, and real life.

It’s no secret that this has been a tough year for me. I have certainly alluded to some struggles: worrying about everything, not appreciating the ones we love, and general confusion about what I should be doing with my life.

Ever since we met as teenagers, there have always been ups and downs between Cameron and I. Cam is an excellent communicator, and we usually come out of bad spells closer than ever, having learned a lot about the other person.

During a recent heart-to-heart conversation, we talked about love. We talked about what it means to be loving and show that the other person is special to you.

We both agreed that we could both be doing a little more in the department of secret love notes and general ooey-gooey niceness.

In my defence, I explained to him that I had been showing love in tangible ways. Like, didn’t he realize that when I went grocery shopping and I kept the pantry stocked with his favourite foods it meant love?

And didn’t he realize that once a year when I vacuumed under the bed that meant love?

And didn’t he realize that when I wash bowls in the bathroom sink it’s a tangible, real demonstration of my love?

“Don’t you get it?” I asked. “Food is love. Clean dishes mean love.”

“Oh.” He said. “I wasn’t really thinking about that as love. I thought that was just part of our relationship–the things we do for ourselves and each other on a daily basis. That’s not really the same thing as a foot massage or a love letter. Like, do you feel loved when I change the oil in the car?” He asked. “”Or do you feel loved and special when I clear snow from the driveway?”

“Oh.” I said. “No, when you do that stuff I just appreciate it, I guess. It doesn’t make me feel loved and special…per se.”

“No.” He said. “It doesn’t.”

We looked at each other. I blinked. He blinked.

Later that week, there were Post-It notes with hearts on them. And a rose found its way into our humble abode.

I recently realized that clean dishes are not love. Or they are just part of love–they are not all of it. And they are certainly not enough.

So maybe it’s okay to leave a pile of unwashed laundry in the hamper and instead take a long walk holding hands. In fact, maybe it’s absolutely necessary.