The Card

Seattle-----April 2010

That's strange, the maid changed the stuff in the bathroom.

What? What's wrong with the bathroom, I said as I walked across the hotel we had booked for our stay. There on the counter was a lavender teddy bear and a card behind it. I carefully opened the envelope, savoring every moment of this impromptu gift. The card was beautiful, some shade between purple and lavender with an iridescent gold embossing in the background color. A blazing sun on the front and red Chinese characters covered the front of the card. I opened it and there he'd written about how proud he was that I had successfully pitched two articles to a publication.

I was so touched. Earlier that day, he had secretly purchased this gift as I was preoccupied in trying to find the right card for my friend's wedding.

I remember slowly reading the card when I opened it, stunned that a man could be so proud of me, could love me so much that he would commend me for being me. For simply doing what I do.

I'm no longer with him but I still have the card, tucked away safely in a beautiful box where I keep treasured mementos.

I was reminded of him, his love and the moment we shared in the hotel, when I opened the card I'd got from Annie last week. It was the same card, with love written all over it. She was congratulating me for getting my job at the Saban Clinic.

It's not lost on me that they both picked the same card. Of course they would, because they both love(d) me.

We aren't together any longer, but I still have his card.