I have written a lot of blogs over the last six years and I think this is the first time I have written one specifically about my husband. I am going to write about him today because I have been thinking this week about the little things he does that mean a lot to me.

If I said to you, “I know my husband loves me because he sets up my coffee cup every night,” you might say, “Really, is that the best you can come up with?” Sometimes it is not the magnitude of the action; it is the magnitude of the meaning behind the action.

I will explain. Every morning for many months now, I have been getting up early to write. At first it was so that I could finish my book. Now, it is because I am going back through the entire book, making pre-edits based on feedback on the first thousand words from the editor who will be formally editing the manuscript next month.

I sleepily make my way downstairs in my PJ’s and my comfy sandals and head straight for the Keurig coffee maker. All I need to do is add my coconut milk creamer and press “go” because my husband always has my red “Nana” coffee cup set up under the spout with an inserted coffee pod.

It always feels like a warm hug when I see my cup there, so early in the morning. My husband is in his own way, supporting my writing dream. I am sure he hasn’t any idea if my book will “make it” in the publishing world but by making sure the mug is ready for me, he is telling me that he supports me trying. He has not even read it; the only person who has seen any part of it is that editor and she has only seen the first couple of chapters.

When this book is done and published, I am going to look back on all those morning cups of coffee with warm memories. My husband was there for me, cheering me on. I know he will still be there for me and proud of me for trying, whether this book ends up the next viral phenomenon or whether only my family members and a few friends end up with a copy.

There are two other things he has done for me over the years that cost nothing and yet have great meaning to me. The first is that whenever he hikes past a certain bench, he snaps a picture and texts it to me, usually with a smiley emoji blowing a kiss. I still have them on my phone and whenever I scroll past them, they make me smile. I do not normally post “real” pictures but this picture at the top of the blog is really one he sent. The quote on it is to the side here.

The last sweet thing he does is sing to me “Hey there, Delilah” which is sung by the Plain White T’s band. It is a love ballad sung by a young man to the girl he misses who is far away. Through the years, my husband has sung it to me every time it comes on the radio. Once, years ago on our anniversary, he came in and sang it to me live in front of a business networking breakfast. I just about fell over from surprise, but I also loved it. He knows I will never, ever, ever return that favor.

That’s my husband…he is a mostly super-serious businessman with a “never give up” West Point airborne ranger mentality. And then I see this adorably corny, sentimental side of him and it’s endearing.

Now of course, over the years, I have received necklaces, flowers and surprise trips from him that have been wonderful too. Yet, when I look back at the end of my life, I think it is those little things that did not actually cost any money that will have meant the most to me. Those little things were given with his whole heart and that is priceless.