It Is Never Too Late To say I Love You

Every so often somebody thanks me for this blog and I feel overwhelmed. I am a very fortunate person to have so many lovely people reading this and leaving comments. I read all of your blogs and some days make comments but every day I leave this computer to face the day uplifted from reading what others are saying and doing.


This thought, and some comments I read on a blog yesterday brought back many moments from my past where I have just smiled. Let me explain. Somebody was speaking of her husband and how he is so different from her and how sometimes she wish he was more thoughtful and deep in discussion. In the next sentence she said how much she loved him. This brought a number of comments from readers saying something similar. I laughed.

The number of times in my ministry I heard husbands and wives telling me little such secrets. Ignoring the shortcoming, and confessing the love. I always had the same response, “You really should be telling your husband/wife this not me. Do it before it is too late.”

Let me tell you a lovely story, well it moved me.

There was once a man and woman who had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about. For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted doilies and a stack of money totalling £15,000. He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she said, "My grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doily." The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious doilies were in the box. She had only been angry with him twice in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. "Honey," he said, "that explains the doilies, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?" "Oh," she said, "That’s the money I made from selling the doilies."

I wonder what it is that my wife keeps in that big chest hidden in her wardrobe

This blog is linked to my other. Too Late To Crow Today