Love as a verb….

Ky and I are downsizing and moving.  Of course, downsizing means letting “things” go, and we’ve been doing a lot of that the past month since our house sold.

Bill’s table is one of the “things” we can’t take with us.  We had moments where we considered using it for our dining room table with the top flipped, and then turning it over once a week for poker.  Those moments faded though when we took a second look at our apartment – definitely no spot for our sprawling table.

The thing about a poker table and eight chairs is that the market is not large and the price is not small.  So, we settled into the approach that has worked for us in the past; take no action and wait for a miracle.  We started packing, using the table as a spot to sort things.

When Pete texted us that he wanted to surprise Roo and buy her Bill’s table we were both relieved and anxious.  What if Roo didn’t want it?  We knew she loved the game, the league, the comradery; but would she want the table?  Pete did not seem plagued by any of those questions; he was sure.  He reminded us multiple times that this was a surprise and to please keep it on the down low. 

The next text asked us to reach out to our poker buddies and see if they could come for a game on the night he intended to surprise her with the gift.  It was all coming together.  The experience of witnessing Pete “love” Roo in this active way was touching.  We pushed aside our moments of anxiety about whether she would be happy, or annoyed.

The final text came last week; advising us that he would come Thursday morning at 8:30 a.m. to pick up the gift.  Roo was working both Thursday and Friday; his plan was to set up the table and pray she didn’t go to the basement until we arrived Friday night at 7.  We’ve since found out Michael met him and helped carry everything to the truck.  When he arrived home however, he was on his own.  He brought the eight chairs in, the base, and then, hulk that he is, the table top.  Flipping the top to change from poker table to regular table takes two of us, that’s how heavy it is, and yet Pete carried it through the house and down the basement stairs by himself.  Yep – love is a verb.

He had prepped the space by installing a new light and relocating the entertainment centre.  It was perfect.  It was perfect for poker; a game Pete doesn’t play.  This was all about Roo; it’s not something they enjoy together.  Pete’s enjoyment comes from knowing Roo loves the game, the league, the comradery.

The night arrived and we made our way to Roo and Pete’s with the poker crew in tow.  As we knocked on the back door we could hear Pete chatting.  Upon entering the kitchen we saw Roo in the living room sitting on the floor.  Kylie had been working with her to sort Lego to take on her trip to Nicaragua.  Roo’s face was confused and as she climbed to her feet we could see she was limping.  “What happened?”, we inquired.  “Oh, I fell at work.” She dismissed our concern and wanted to know what was going on?  As we exchanged hugs we told her we were just out for a drive.  She was disoriented.

Pete took her by the arm and gently prodded her to follow him downstairs.  “Why?” she asked.  “Just come on.” He answered.  We all followed the two of them to the basement where Pete left Roo at the bottom of the stairs and made his way across the room.  Still confused and disoriented (more than usual), Roo flipped on the lights and looked across the room to Pete. 

She gasped, covered her face with her hands and began to weep.  A new fan/light was installed in her basement.  It was hanging above Bill’s table.  What the fuck??

Limping toward Pete she was overcome.  She leaned into him and his arms encircled her, steadying her, reassuring her; loving her.

Pete was right.  He was right that Roo loved the table.  He was right that she wanted the table.  He said nothing; he held her.  He was right – love is a verb.

Shuffle up and deal.