My Happy

This morning I rolled over tucking my plethora of pillows all around my swollen body in an effort to get comfortable and fall back asleep. I knew at any moment my little alarm clock would come bounding in the room. I heard Brandon grab his keys, shoes and socks before leaving for work. It was 5:50am and still dark outside. I listened to the whirring of the fan sitting on my nightstand, grateful for the white noise it created. I whispered, "I love you" to B before he left our room. I could hardly hear the sound of the door shutting as he carefully turned the knob before quietly closing the door behind him. I wanted to leap out of bed, run down the hall and squeeze him for his thoughtfulness. 

Every morning before he leaves he makes sure to close the door ever so gently as to avoid disrupting my sleep. It is a small, simple gesture but one that says, "I love you, Joan" every time he leaves in the morning. 

I remember when we were in our first apartment in Sacramento. He was selling security systems and I was waiting tables at Macaroni Grille. I was putting on my make-up one morning, in front of the bathroom mirror when I noticed him fold his towel in half and hang it up. I debated asking him to fold it in thirds (it looks best that way, I think) and then as diplomatically as I could I asked, "Hey, babe would you mind folding it like this before you hang it up?" I then held the towel up to my chest folding one corner in toward the middle and then the other. He smiled at me as if to say, "Seems like one extra, unnecessary step, Joan but if it's important to you then I'll do it." 

He replied simply, "Sure. No problem."

I am not exaggerating when I say a day has not gone by since we've been married that I have found his towel on the bathroom floor or folded in half hanging. Ever since my request he has folded his towel in thirds before hanging it up. 

Every. Single. Day. Without. Fail.

Just one more way he says, "Joan, I love you."

These few examples may seem trivial to you but they mean half a dozen beautiful things to me: He listens to me and cares how I feel. If something is important to me he tries really, really hard to make it important to him even if he thinks its silly.

I, of course, try to reciprocate these kindnesses to him. Although in all reality, he is a far more simple creature. Not in a diminutive way. He just doesn't require as much as I do.

I have a friend from high school who has three sons almost the same ages as mine. She lost her husband last December suddenly and almost inexplicably. He was a tall, physically fit man with no health problems. Needless to say, his passing was devastating to us all. But of course his death hit his wife hardest (a close second would be his mother and father, I'm sure). I have thought about her and her young sons dozens of times over these past months. Considering her loss has caused me to kiss my husband more often and bury my face in the warmth of his neck, thanking God that I have one more day with him. I can't even write about it without tears. I cannot imagine this life without the man I love.

He is faithful, loyal, loving, strong, hard-working, considerate, fun, adventurous, charming, happy, a phenomenal father, provider and...

He is my happy.