Dear Husband: Wooden Anniversary

Dear Husband,

You know I thought you were just a summer fling when we met, right? That I thought you were kinda cute but needed a haircut and some new shoes? That I was shocked we were still dating when school started back? It seemed every time we had a date, I saw us lasting just a little longer. By November I was head over heels in love with you. I was thinking there was no way in hell I was moving to D.C. the next summer without you. But my future career with the senator! Grad School! What should I do? Well luckily the Senator had faithfulness issues, lost the election he was running on family values, and the decision to stay where I was for Grad school was made for me.

Fast forward a year to an insanely humid New Orleans night. You had been acting strange all day, you would not talk to me, and seemed …..distracted at best. I thought for sure you had drug me all the way down there to break up with me. I was heart-broken. Turns out you just were trying to get up the nerve to propose! ( I don’t think I should ponder too hard why you were so nervous.) Of course I said yes.

Fast forward almost another year to another hot and humid night, (And rainy….and tornadic…. and muddy), I was not nervous, just glad the wedding was nearly over. I thought about each vow before I said them. I was in this for the long haul, because I loved you, and knew you loved me. But looking back, I was wrong.

I thought what I felt then was love. I loved being with you, I trusted you, I knew I wanted to be with you forever, but compared to now; It was nothing. In the last five years I have learned what love is. You have taught me love is having you help me with my statistics course. Love is driving me to job interviews, in towns we knew nothing about. Love is looking me in the eyes and calming a panic attack better than any SSRI. Love is trusting my gut feelings. Love is laying the flooring I wanted piece-by-piece. Love is getting me Frosted Flakes in the middle of the night. Love is holding my hands and crying during The Son’s birth. Love is letting me sleep in Saturday mornings, even though you got up with the baby three times the night before. Love is holding my hand while we pray. Love is fifty-hour work weeks so I can stay home, going to school, doing homework, housework, and church work, and still making time to go on picnics with your family. Love is the time in the early morning before the alarm goes off, when it is just us, not quite awake, not quite asleep, when I thank God for showing me this kind of love. I love you, and hope to one day be able to show you the way you show me daily.

Happy Anniversary.

The Wife

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