It all began at Target.  In homewares.  Giovanni stood there by the rows of cutting boards and boxed stainless steel cutlery.  He wore his striped shirt and green corduroy vest.  (He loves vests).  It was an ordinary Saturday.  I walked up to him with the red Target cart and said, "I think we better go over to the Tide aisle.  We need laundry soap."  "Wait," he said, and steered the shopping cart over to the framed pictures.  I was a little puzzled.  Giovanni is not fond of looking at framed art.  He really doesn't like pictures on our walls.  He much prefers a smooth surface.  But I followed him.  He pointed to a black and white photograph of the Eiffel Tower.  "Would you like to go there?" he asked.  "What do you mean?" I queried back.  "Do you want to go to Paris? "Well, of course, some day."  I was getting impatient.  Why was he asking me about this?  Just as I was about to steer the cart over toward the Tide, Giovanni said, "You won't have to wait until some day.  We're going for Valentine's Day."  And then he pulled out the itinerary from the pocket of the green corduroy vest and kissed me on the cheek.  The intensity of that romantic gesture continues to thread its way through my mind as the memories we created those five days in Paris remain sumptuous.

We had perfect weather and stayed outside like little kids, riding the Metro all over the city.  We even had sun on our cheeks in February.  Giovanni had been there before, so knew his way around (He's good at directions anyway, with no GPS). The famous wheel of stained glass in Notre Dame mesmerized me.  And the Eiffel Tower seemed to hover over the city like a sheltering angel.  I never tired of gazing up at it.  We strolled along the banks of the Seine on Valentine's Day holding hands and feeling the warmth of the sun on our heads.  I kept thinking, "I've got to remember this.  I've got to hold this memory in my mind."  And I have.  That remembrance sustains me on days when we are tired from working all day and can hardly muster the energy to say three words to each other at dinner.  When we have to figure out insurance bills and who's going to stay home for the repair person.  Those intense romantic gestures are like gold--like treasure. Somehow fundamental.  The occasional, necessary ingredients in the life of a couple.