Love Me More than Pudding

Today was my last seasonal day of volunteering as the boys will be finished with school next week and I will get to have them all to myself for two months.  I had the most delightful conversation with a patient today.  She was engaging and inspiring.  Late in the conversation, she just stopped, looked me in the eyes and said that my husband must love me.  She was serious.  She squinted afterwards and nodded her head, validating that she felt her comment was important.  She said he ought to love me more than pudding.  Something that is sweet, creamy, consistent, and an indulgence—pudding is all of those things.  It’s really a prophetic metaphor, loving someone more than pudding.  I could’ve visited hours with her.  She was funny, witty, and wise.  While her assisted living friends have decorative wreaths on their doors, she has a pink flamingo!  She said the secret to a successful marriage is to always let the husband speak the last words: yes ma’am.  Those words are the last two words.  She was married 64 years to her husband when he died, so I guess she has some credibility!  She even sang to me: “You've got to give a little, take a little, and let your poor heart break a little.  That's the story of, that's the glory of love.”  What a neat lady.  I felt like I had known her for years by the time I left.