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tales of something simple - January 2013

i believe

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

all types of chaos

i love you because

Tomorrow is our 5th wedding anniversary.  I married you 262 Friday’s ago.  Yes, you can Google that kind of shit.

Five feels really comfortable.  It feels worn in but in a very good way.  Kind of like your green recliner.  Your ass has sat in that chair for countless evenings, so much so that it fits you better than anyone else who sits in it.  Yes, it’s comfortable for other asses and all, but doesn’t offer quite the same satisfaction as it does to you. You love that recliner.  I have a feeling when I demand we finally buy new furniture at the next house we live in, you will want to keep that darn thing somewhere in the house.

You are my recliner.  Except I’ll never get rid of you.  You fit me better than anyone or anything else.  You are comfortable, but in the kind of way that doesn’t say “I’m lazy and just married this dude because there wouldn’t be anyone else to come along.”  I was 18 when I met you.  I was 21 when I married you.  Let’s be honest.  I had like a gazillion fertile years left to find a mate.  But I picked you.  I picked you because you were gentle, honest, kind, loving, attentive and really friggin’ smart.  You’ve always had this thoughtful, brilliant way of looking at things.  It’s probably because you are way more practical and simple in thinking than I am, but coming from a complicated, stressed out, crazy person (me), you look genius.  I picked you because when I was with you I was more me than I was alone.  Even better, over the years I’ve had to lose and re-find me and you’ve let me do that.  You’ve embraced me through change and loved me more.  Hugged me tighter.  Kissed me harder.  You’ve stayed.  You take me exactly as I am and you LOVE me.

I became a Mom and I changed and I grew and I changed and you still saw me as Jessica.  Even when I didn’t see me as anything but a flabby, breast-feeding, sleepless, maybe I’ve showered today, maybe I haven’t, mess.

That feels so good.

Sitting next to you, talking to you, sleeping beside you, being married to you feels good.

And you know what really gets me?  Like gets my gut and grabs me and makes my heart skip a beat but beat faster all at the same time?

In any trying time in our marriage, in any struggle, in any moment of “what the fuck is going on life is a mess” you have looked at me very seriously, very honestly and so sincerely said

It’s me and it’s you.  There is no other option.  There is no life without you and me together.

I grew up in divorce.  Call it a broken home, call it whatever you want.  My mother was always afraid her children  would marry the wrong people or for the wrong reasons and screw it up because she claims that she did.  I always saw it oppositely.  I figured I would do it better than I had seen it done.

I thought I loved you when I married you.

Then you became a father.

It was then that I realized I could love you in a new way, a greater way, than I could ever have loved you before.

You are this sweet and snuggly dad.  Everything you are to our daughter is everything I wished I ever had as a child from a father.  You have healed my old sadness and scars in a gentler, quieter way than my own father could have done himself.  You became a father overnight, but you’ve become a “dad” over the past year and a half.  You have created your own rhythm with her, your own style and your own comfort that I couldn’t have taught you if you tried.  It has been remarkable watching you evolve from a nervous, flustered man into a confident, patient dad.

I would have to say that I think that parenting has been our biggest challenge in our marriage to date out of any other experience we have had.  Not only did our life flip upside down and sideways, we each personally went through a transition in work, household responsibilities and roles and an identity crisis of the century for me for sure.  Everything about our life that we had known for years was altered and while it was beautiful and welcomed it has not always been easy. But because of it I have more respect and more love for you.  I have struggled with finding the time and making the effort to express to you how much I appreciate you.  You aren’t just my husband.  You are someone’s father.  And for that you always deserve for me to take care of you, because in essence that will be the best thing I could ever do for her.  I wouldn’t be half the parent without you that I am with you beside me.

As you sat next to me in the doctor’s office today, waiting to hear our second baby’s heartbeat for the first time, I had a moment of complete content happiness. I felt so much love for you that saying it out loud didn’t even feel like it would really make you understand it.  You were sick and tired and unshowered and had driven 45 minutes one way, separately, to come to a fifteen minute appointment just to hear this amazing little pitter patter with me.  Because I was afraid of being alone if they didn’t hear anything and afraid of not having you there to pick me up if I fell apart.  You showed up not just because you wanted to be a part of it.

I love you because you showed up for me.  You show up for me, for our daughter and for our marriage.  You show up where and when it counts.

I love you because you can look at me and know what I am thinking or feeling and act accordingly.

I love you because when I ask for your reassurance you offer it willingly and sincerely.

I love you because even though you find me disgusting for eating every last potato chip crumb from the bag you still love me back.

I love you because you are honest with me and you do it gently when you know I need it.

I love you because you are yourself with me without pretenses, guards or fronts.

I love you because you know when I need you most and you make sure you show up for that.

I love you because when everything is spinning you put it in focus and make sense of it.

I love you because you don’t just tell me, you show me with what you do for me and for our family, just how much I mean to you.

I love you because even when I want to throw pillows at you or stand in front of the TV and hammer out the same disagreement thirteen different ways, I know that you will still be there another anniversary from now letting me do it.

I love you because I know you will stay.

Because we know no other way.

Happy anniversary my darling.

 


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