Walking Home in the Rain

Driving to Stonehenge, Salisbury Cathedral, and Bath had been a long and exciting day. We’d navigated stormy weather, incomprehensible directions, and the constant challenge of driving on the “wrong” side of the road. We laughed and marveled, ate incredible pastries, and took too many photos. I could write a hefty travelogue about our adventures, but today, I’m just writing about the end.

We were finally approaching Oxford. I was in the back seat with our friend Kara, while Daniel sat up front helping Erik navigate the dark, rainswept streets toward a gas station. We’d walked a dozen miles that day, and none of us were looking forward to the mile-long trek back from the car rental in the pouring rain.

I had a miserable cold and was surviving on cold medicine and cough drops. I hadn’t taken time to rest—after all, I had a cold, not a personality transplant. From the back seat, I rasped, “Okay, the walk back from the car rental will be cold and dark, but we’ll tell jokes and silly stories, and we’ll be fine.”

Erik replied, “Yes, we’ll be fine.” Daniel nodded off, and Erik navigated the rest of the way on his own.

Oxford has few streetlights, and the rain was falling in sheets, so I didn’t recognize where we were until Erik pulled up to the gates of our dormitory. He reached over and gently shook Daniel awake. “Hey, go get some sleep,” he told us all. “I’ll return the car and walk back.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said. “You don’t want to walk back alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Erik insisted. “I’m a big guy. People don’t mess with me.” (This is true.)

“No, I’m coming,” I said.

“No, you’re not,” Erik replied gently. “I’m doing this for you. You need to get warm and get better.”

So I let him go. With my tired legs and racking cough, even the short walk back to our room was exhausting. Back in the room, I collapsed onto the bed and watched Erik’s location on my phone until he shuffled in, soaked to the bone but still cheerful, 40 minutes later.

And that—that—is love. Not flowers, not silly jewelry, not chocolate (though chocolate is always a good idea). Love is walking home alone in the dark and rain. Love is cleaning the bathroom. Love is picking up butter and eggs from Costco. Love is listening to the same worries over and over. Love is patient; love is kind.