There is no harvest for the heart alone.
The seed of love must be Eternally resown.
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh
That was what was on the cover of Mr Husband and my wedding programme.
Almost 21 years ago.
As you know, Mr Husband and I went through a Very Tough Time.
In fact, from March 2010 until virtually the end of March 2012, it was actually Hell On Earth.
I blogged about it, I cried about it, I thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it some more.
And then I decided that there was nothing more to it, than for it to End.
I decided this while Mr Husband was away at Our Island.
I felt firm in my decision, as I could honestly not see my way clear of the tangled heartache we seemed to have shaped.
I had wanted to help him break free from the burden his cruel childhood had created, but realised that instead, I was paying the price for it too. It was tricky. It was overwhelming, it was frightening, it was sad.
I made my decision.
I fetched Mr Husband from the airport and was shocked by how much weight he had lost.
We hugged awkwardly and the near hour drive home was stilted, with me asking superficial questions about all the distant relatives, especially the crazy ones, and him asking after the children.
The next few days passed calmly enough, work and the children keeping us both busy and preoccupied.
Then. It wasn't a 'we need to talk' moment or anything like that. It was an evening in front of the telly watching a programme - I forget which - and Mr Husband started talking.
He spoke from his heart. Tears made their way down his face and onto his chin where there was a bit of stubble.
He spoke of his hope that we could stay a family, that he could work through his issues with my help and that we would be able to continue our journey together, but this time a happier one.
Inside of myself I felt a flutter of hope - like the first time you feel a baby kick inside your belly - a feeling of tingly anticipation, but also traces of fear.
He asked for my forgiveness and I told him how afraid I was to take another chance, as I felt my heart couldn't bear anymore pain.
He answered that he could not promise a happy ending, but could certainly promise that he would do everything in his power to save us, save this family, give us the chance of a happy future.
He would start with therapy and dedicate himself to our relationship with total honesty, but more importantly, with kindness.
It's been nearly 3 months since that conversation. He has kept his word. He has been kind, he has been thoughtful, he has been going for therapy. There has been improvement.
I know this - you can fake what you do and you can fake what you say, but you cannot fake the energy you carry, the expression on your face when you think no one is watching, your body language....
And that is where I have sensed the real truth of his words. In his energy. In his positive, kind, loving energy.
I have hope.
I have a lot of hope.