I have the best husband. He rarely watches sport on tv (maybe 4-5 times a year, tops), he cooks fabulous meals — not just barbecue. I have to say though, he rocks the grill: succulent chicken and juicy, mouth-watering steaks. He openly admits to not being great with cars, but will read up how to fix something online and do it perfectly. He cleans (remember, he’s a microbiologist? It’s really rather very handy), he doesn’t hunt (although I admit it can be handy), he offers foot rubs, back massages and warms my feet in bed; he lifts me up: spiritually and emotionally; he bathes, sings and reads to the boys when he sees I’ve had a hard day. And from the moment I met him, he gives the best hugs.
He left late Saturday afternoon to go miles south of here for an overnight campout with the Scouts. Like most married people of the womanly persuasion out there, I don’t do very well when he is gone — even if he just pops out for 10 minutes to go pick something up quick from the local rip-off merchants convenience store past the 4-way stop: the only form of traffic control in this aptly-named village of 700.
Ever since we started dating, oh, nine years ago, I felt the luckiest woman alive. I didn’t have to settle for a quirk or trait that made me uneasy or I showed disdain for. He was perfect. For me. And with that, I have always had this underlying fear that I will lose it all.
Way back when, he used drive 2 hours from University to work every day and then an hour home. I’d especially worry when the winter months hit. He made it half-way to work one day, phoned his boss and came home early. I was surprised and delighted to see him. With that type of schedule, he’d leave at 7 a.m. and I wouldn’t see him again until 10 that night.
Then he told me what happened, and my fears were justified.
A few cars were at the side of the road, parked at the median having hit black ice. He slowed down as a precaution and ultimately stopped to offer any assistance. Nine years ago, it’s weird to think that mobile phones weren’t as prevalent, but it’s true. He offered his phone to a few who needed it.
Suddenly, there was a noise that stopped time.
He looked up to see a car barrelling towards him at highway speed and quickly vaulted over the concrete median. Seconds later, the car spun in undulating circles and smashed into the spot where he had been standing just moments earlier.
I have had a mantra since we’re been married: Tell him you love him every day. Tell him you love him every day like you’ve never said it before. Appreciate each day as it comes. Appreciate it with a warm, encompassing embrace.
When he returned home yesterday just after noon — and in theory only 20 hours later — it felt like months. We have been separated before, the longest being 3½ weeks, almost 4 when he came to Montana to start his new job, and I stayed behind to sell the house with a 2-year-old and 20 weeks pregnant. It was rough, but we did it.
Yesterday felt worse than that. The house was unanchored and quiet — even with the boys, and I felt lost and sullen. Even worse, I dreaded going to bed and going to sleep. To spite the bed, I lay facing the window instead of the empty mattress. It was horrid.
On his return, I embraced him and clung tight, as tight as a sea urchin. And, in retrospect, the evening was magical. But not like that. OK, like that. But, he bathed the boys, did the whole night routine alone and tucked them safely in bed. I grabbed a DVD we’ve had waiting for a few days and sneaked it into the player. I had never seen it. All I knew was, it was good.
Two words: The Notebook.
I have never openly sobbed so much at a film. It touched so many truths in my mind and spoke to my heart. I lay nestled on his chest for its entirety. After I retrieved it from the player, we stood and embraced each other for ever, crying.
“Promise me. Promise me you’ll come visit me when I’m old. Don’t leave me alone. And if I [get Parkinson’s really bad], promise you’ll come get me.”
I have the best husband.
You may have the best husband, but I have my own opinions about the amazing woman he’s married to. You’re both quite lucky to have each other, but as far as I’m concerned, he is especially so.
Aww so sweet! I agree with lceel though – he’s pretty lucky too! 🙂
Brian’s the lucky one, hon.
And, if you haven’t read it? Book’s actually not as good as the movie – one of the few times I’ve had that happen.
You’re not so bad yourself. I’m glad you two have each other. But, you’re right–I am going to start TODAY by telling my husband and children that I love them everyday and I will hug and kiss them before they leave for school/work/go to bed too. Words to live by, Siobhan.
Your readers have one thing right, you are the star of this story. You are the Angel that came down from heaven to lift me up.
I love you Siobhan. Thank you for everything you are to me. I know you will always be at my side and I will never be far away from you.
Thank you for choosing me and for loving me as much as you do. You are my everything!
I love you
The fact you can identify and articulate your appreciation for him is heart melting, and obviously vice versa.
I’m getting all hormonal.
My husband is one of the very few people who can make me laugh despite how crappy I might feel. Some people are lucky enough to find the person that compliments them and makes them a better person. For both sides.
Beautiful post and I enjoyed Bryan’s reply, too.
Oh how beautiful! You guys are so great together 🙂 As for The Notebook—I cried so hard in the theater that I had snot coming out of my nose and lucky had a kleenex waiting in my purse. Love that movie. If you didn’t have two little boys to tend to I’d say read the book too, but yeah, well, two little boys means no reading time I’m sure.
Awwwwwwwwwwww! How lovely.
Two words: The Notebook.
WHY would you do that to yourself??? (I can’t . . . won’t watch it, ever.)
You seriously are awesome . . . real love looks wonderful on you 🙂
He’s a lucky guy . . .
Oh but darling, hasn’t anyone told you, he’s not real? He rarely watches sport on tv (maybe 4-5 times a year, tops), he cooks fabulous meals — not just barbecue; he reads up on how to fix something instead of winging it and putting his fist through the wall? He’s one of those alien spies, learning everything he can about humans before taking over the planet. I bet he even asks for directions when he’s driving and lost? Yep. Told you. Not real.
Girl, you are gonna make me cry…
Wow – you guys have it good.
And I have been meaning to watch that film for a long time….
Happy Valentines Day etc…
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This is a lovely post. You have a very special relationship, and the great thing is that neither of you take that for granted.
The Notebook is a great film. I should pick it up for Valentine’s 🙂
I LOVE write about husband posts!!! You sound like you definitely got a keeper!
I am the same way with my man when he is away…it’s terrible…
The NOTEBOOK is an all time classic for sure!
What a lovely lovely post. Made me pick the phone up and tell my better half – yes I have to admit he’s the better half – I’m the moody half – anyway, I digress – made me call him to say I love you and am lucky to have you.
The thought of the two of you together as happy as you seem to be makes me smile…