Happy Anniversary
Twenty-four years ago today, I married my best friend.
No words, no gift, no card can express the love and the loss, the happiness and the tears, the better and the worse, the sickness and the health.
Here's to the dad who cleans, shops, cooks, and raised our children all while moving three times for my job and driving me to the airport at 4:30am. Now he's still actively Dadding three dogs, three cats, our not-too-long-distance daughter, our grown-but-home son, and our granddaughter.
Here's to the husband who never comes home without calling to see if I need something (Saturday I NEEDED chocolate cake), who surprises me with puzzle books and all the Bumbles he can find, who takes me on driving "adventures" to get me out of the house on the weekends, who goes on beach vacations even though he's bored and hates sand, who understands migraines, chiari malformations, chronic daily headaches, anxiety, bipolar disorder and escalatoraphobia, and who waits in the car during my numerous "Pull over! I gotta go to the bathroom!" stops.
Here's to the man who lives his dreams. He's been in the press box during an NFL game, wrote articles for ESPN, wrote two books (available on Amazon, with two more soon to be published), received a Doctorate in Biblical Preaching (that's Dr and Mrs Edwards on the Christmas cards, people), pastored numerous churches and counseled hundreds of people, created a local community theater group, wrote and produced numerous plays (raising money for charity and giving regular people a chance to participate in the theatre), and now is the PA Announcer for the Evansville Jr Bolts hockey team.
There's so much more. He can't pass a fireman's boot or bell ringer without giving up his change. He tips the servers at Sonic. He will hold a door open for thirty-seven people. He always takes a cart from the parking lot into the store. He lets the lady with five things in front of him in line when he has ten.
And you probably didn't know half of this because everything he does for everyone else, he does because he wants to. He needs to. Not for the accolades. Not for the recognition. Just because that's who he is.
And that is why I can't think of the words that explain how I feel about him. That little jump in my heart when he kisses me at the airport or when he yells "hooooooney" when he gets back from the store.
I love him.
Just because of who he is.
No words, no gift, no card can express the love and the loss, the happiness and the tears, the better and the worse, the sickness and the health.
Here's to the dad who cleans, shops, cooks, and raised our children all while moving three times for my job and driving me to the airport at 4:30am. Now he's still actively Dadding three dogs, three cats, our not-too-long-distance daughter, our grown-but-home son, and our granddaughter.
Here's to the husband who never comes home without calling to see if I need something (Saturday I NEEDED chocolate cake), who surprises me with puzzle books and all the Bumbles he can find, who takes me on driving "adventures" to get me out of the house on the weekends, who goes on beach vacations even though he's bored and hates sand, who understands migraines, chiari malformations, chronic daily headaches, anxiety, bipolar disorder and escalatoraphobia, and who waits in the car during my numerous "Pull over! I gotta go to the bathroom!" stops.
Here's to the man who lives his dreams. He's been in the press box during an NFL game, wrote articles for ESPN, wrote two books (available on Amazon, with two more soon to be published), received a Doctorate in Biblical Preaching (that's Dr and Mrs Edwards on the Christmas cards, people), pastored numerous churches and counseled hundreds of people, created a local community theater group, wrote and produced numerous plays (raising money for charity and giving regular people a chance to participate in the theatre), and now is the PA Announcer for the Evansville Jr Bolts hockey team.
There's so much more. He can't pass a fireman's boot or bell ringer without giving up his change. He tips the servers at Sonic. He will hold a door open for thirty-seven people. He always takes a cart from the parking lot into the store. He lets the lady with five things in front of him in line when he has ten.
And you probably didn't know half of this because everything he does for everyone else, he does because he wants to. He needs to. Not for the accolades. Not for the recognition. Just because that's who he is.
And that is why I can't think of the words that explain how I feel about him. That little jump in my heart when he kisses me at the airport or when he yells "hooooooney" when he gets back from the store.
I love him.
Just because of who he is.
posted by Tonya at
1:32 PM
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