I know that posts about relationships sometimes bug people. I get it. So, if you’re one of those folks that can’t stand to read about couples/relationships/marriage, you might want to change the channel for the next few minutes.
It’s time for some sappy stuff. It’s my wedding anniversary this week. Rob and I got hitched about this time, nine years ago. It’s been a whirlwind for us – doesn’t everybody say that?
I could lecture you all on what it “really means” to be in a relationship. About what you really “need to do” to make a relationship work. That’s what people tend to do in these situations. Not that they’re entirely wrong for doing so.
I feel like if you’ve been fighting the good fight for almost a decade (or more), then maybe, just maybe you might have something worthwhile to share after all of that.
The only thing that’s worth while about this whole thing for me has been my husband and these two kids of ours. I don’t live to dispense advice. I live to love them. And sometimes, I like to talk about how much I love them.
This is a simple “thank you” post to my husband. This is what has worked for us and maybe what hasn’t worked for us. This is how he has loved me. This is how I have tried to love him. This is how we are slowly synchronizing and becoming one as the years pass us by. This is how we both have grown individually and how our passions and individual pursuits work to make us better together. This is how we fight over the refrigerator door being left open, juice left on the counter and shoes being left in the middle of the floor.
This is how we roll.
Thank you for messaging me on AOL for the very first time. Recalling that moment makes me realize that even though I think I do, I really don’t know any better. How close I was to “ignoring” you (for whatever reason) shows me just how close to stupid I am on a daily basis.
Thank you for being better than any suitor I could have ever dreamt up on my own. Seriously, tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed guys are overrated. Hazel eyes are in.
Thank you for asking me to marry you when tons of people probably thought that we were ridiculous and too young and foolish, but you didn’t care anyway.
Thank you for not really caring what other people think. That when you know something is right for you, or for us, in your heart, you don’t need to vainly defend yourself to the peanut gallery, but you self-assuredly walk the walk.
Thank you for proposing to me twice.
Thank you for that 24 hour period. You know the one. The one where it made me realize what I wanted, and that if I wanted it, I needed to say so or be willing to move on and wait for the right things because I was tired of having ephemeral things.
Thank you for being God’s loving, perfect response to those ephemeral things. For being the best forever-thing I could have ever found on Earth.
Thank you for going with me to traffic court when we lived on base, and for speaking up for me to that scary Master Sergeant guy who was going to take my license for 30 days. You were the only husband that I saw there with their wife that day.
Thank you for always being my advocate, even when I’m really not worthy of your support.
Thank you for not killing me for leaving the juice out on the counter all. of. the time. And for not making me feel totally useless when I also leave some spilled, too.
Thank you for being so easy to love. The only thing difficult about loving you is knowing that I’m not loving you in the way that you deserve and should be loved. You deserve better, every day.
Thank you for maxing out your credit cards on me before your deployment, and for assuring me that everything was going to be alright and to just be quiet and eat my sushi.
Thank you for being the kind of father for my children that I could only have ever hoped to have. For loving them, for nurturing them, for playing Lego’s with them, for making faces with them, for teaching them how to play rock-paper-scissors. For all of that, the stuff they’ll always have.
Thank you for making me watch all three Karate Kid movies.
Thank you for being a man. Not a macho man. Not a verbose man. Just a man.
Thank you for providing for us and running the rat race when I know that it means you occasionally spend crappy days behind a desk or on the phone with people you might not want to be on the phone with. This before you come home, peel off your suit and still cut the grass. You’re so immensely talented, you could do just about anything you decided to do. But you do this for us. Thank you for hardly ever complaining about it.
Thank you for making me do things. For telling me to keep going. For being the first person to tell me when I’m good at something.
Thank you for saying “thank you” for every. single. lousy dinner I make for you.
Thank you for teaching me that when things don’t go my way I’ll still be alright. That I will live to fight another day. That it isn’t worth getting hung up on. That it’s okay to not have every throw pillow at Pier 1.
Thank you for being the kind of person that makes me want to be a better person. Even though I know it might never be enough.
Thank you for never giving me a hard time about the house being messy. For the floors being messy, the dishes being in the sink, the laundry coming out of our ears. Thank you. That deserves a double thank you.
Thank you for sometimes letting yourself be the butt of the joke when we are out socializing with people. Sometimes, that takes more class and effort than being the one cracking them.
Thank you for not telling people the truth when they ask me how I “put up with you,” that it’s actually me that needs the most putting up with. You’re entirely too gracious.
Thank you for not divorcing me instantly when I threw that raw chicken at your head one time.
Thank you for letting me get a goat one day. <— now it’s public and you have to let me do it!
Thank you for giving me two already amazing children.
Thank you for giving me what will be our third amazing child, come this fall.
Thank you for never making me feel like I’m in this entirely on my own. You’re always there with me and for me. Every step of the way.
Thank you for loving The Princess Bride as much as I do.
Thank you for letting me ramble on to you about paint colors for the last six weeks. Even when I know that you don’t always get it.
Thank you for being the first to go without if it means that the kids and I can go with. For always being the first willing to go without. For taking one for the team without being asked.
Thank you for telling me when I’m wrong.
Thank you for being the kind of husband that does dishes, vacuums floors, wipes down toilets and helps out.
Thank you for being the kind of husband who doesn’t call it babysitting when he spends extra time with his children, but instead is excited about it.
Thank you for being the funniest person that I have ever known. Except for that one time you made me cry.
Thank you for giving me a place that I know that I can dwell safely. For always making me feel safe and secure in your hands.
Thank you for being a place that I can dwell safely.
Thank you for loving and accepting me even though I’m shaped differently after having our children. For never making me think that your love was contingent on how I look on the outside, but always about how I look on the inside.
Thank you for dancing with me in the kitchen. And the dining room. And the living room. And the yard.
Thank you for being the wall of protection around my children and I. Knowing that we have someone who’s only interests are our best interests is a treasure in this world not afforded to many.
Thank you for not throwing me out of your parent’s house when you saw me take a bite of that cake straight off of the platter with my fork.
Thank you for watching me drink three extra Dr. Peppers to prove my point to you that it IS more economical to buy a larger size. And for laughing at me when I said my stomach was upset on the car ride home.
Thank you for teaching me about Jesus love. For loving me even when you might not want to, for loving me when I’m being ridiculous. For shining the light of grace into the darkest areas of my heart and still accepting me as I am.
Thank you for loving me. Just, thank you.
There you have it. I love you, Robert William. Except for when you eat my potato chips. But mostly, all of the time.
So, “bye, bye, bye and there ya go, Charlie!” Here is to, hopefully what will be many, many more! Sorry!! 🙂