Atop my fiance's shoulders, the littlest Waffler explored Amsterdam from a vantage point high above the city. But it was a long day, and travelling had worn her out, and soon enough, she fell asleep.
On his head.
Hilarious though it was, I worried that 43 pounds of limp, floppy kid might cause Waffle Guy epic chiropractic consequences. "I can carry her, if you want," I offered. "I'll help you get her down."
"It's no problem," he explained. "This way, we're moving forward, and she's getting some rest. That's about as good as it gets, isn't it?"
Maybe. But it still seemed like it might hurt, eventually. "You're going to get tired!" I insisted.
"Or I'll get stronger shoulders," he said.
And in that moment, love made perfect sense.
At once intricate and simple, the truth was there, as clear as water: To find it in one's self, day after day, to carry the ones who matter, and to find strength in that, is the gift of love.
Tomorrow, Bruges.
