Eleven years ago today, on a crisp, sunny autumnal afternoon, Alexi and I were married. I watched part of the video today, and as I was doing so I came across footage of Alexi (looking like a baby!) toasting me at our reception. He recounted a morning when he was starting a new rotation (something residents - doctors training in their specialties - do every month). He described how, on that particular morning, I got up and made lattes for us, and brought his to him in bed. This was a special treat for him, given that latte making was usually his role. And then I offered him mine, and I offered to drive him home. It was out of our routine and he described it as a generous act in his time of need. He went on to say that people tend to think of generosity in a time of need as something more along the lines of giving up a last sip of water while lost in the middle of the desert, but that’s heroism, he said. He said I recognized he was having difficulty when he didn’t see it, and I adapted.
"The generosity I’m talking about exists moreso in the realm of the mundane. In those small daily actions it’s easy to say ‘you’re not tired until you die’, ‘if it doesn’t bleed it doesn’t hurt’, and so on. Generosity lies in the small things in life. It’s the daily glue that holds us together."
I have loved these eleven years we've had together, learning to be sensitive, flexible and generous with each other. I look forward to knowing and loving the person he'll be five, ten, fifty years from now.