February 14th, 2016
We go through life at breakneck speeds. Owning two companies, having four kids, going to school to keep my teaching licence current, running the boys to Boy Scouts, Robotics, Science Olympiad, Chivalry Club, music lessons, and the other hundred things we do in a week, I rarely get the chance to tell you, or show you, how amazing I think you are.
It’s the way you want to hold my hand when we’re walking. Even though your 6’4” frame dwarfs my 5’6” and our arms are at uncomfortable lengths to each other, you always want to hold my hand and tuck my arm under yours as if holding me closer is of the utmost importance.
It’s the way you place your hand on the small of my back when we’re standing in a line, talking with others, or walking through a door. It’s protective without being overbearing. It’s tender and makes me feel feminine without being diminished.
It’s the way you don’t rush in to solve my problems or tell me how to do things. You trust me to know how to take care of myself and figure out life, yet you let me know you’ll help if I want it. And even though I sometimes rush in to solve your problems, you don’t get mad at my intrusion. You know my only goal is to help alleviate stress.
It’s the way you never say, “I told you so” even if you’re thinking it.
I love the way you look at me across a room, a look reserved solely for me. There’s love, but even better, there’s pride. With that look I feel wanted, cherished, and respected.
It’s the way you fell in love with me, even though I was pregnant and determined to need no one. You made no promises you couldn’t keep, but you were willing to face the challenges that went along with dating someone pregnant with another man’s baby. You let me lean on you when I was scared. You held my hand through labor and delivery, and you picked him up as if he were yours and you looked at me like I had just given you the best gift. I love you for continuing to treat him as your own.
You support me emotionally, hold me through my crazy, and let me find my footing again without pushing your agenda. When I panic, you show me everything is going to be okay with your infinite patience, even though you probably want to throttle me.
It’s the way you encourage the kids, helping them with projects, encouraging their individuality, supporting new adventures and accepting their decisions when something isn’t right for them. It’s the way you start “high-low” every night at the dinner table, interested in our day, making sure the dialogue between parent and adolescent stays open, and keeping this tradition alive and strong.
It’s the smell of your skin and the heat of your body when you wrap yourself around me every morning. It’s the backrubs and the quiet pillow talk as we share our dreams and concerns. It’s the way you cup the base of my head when you kiss me and the gentle stroke of your fingers along my jawline.
There are a myriad of things I love about you. Your awesome sense of humor and loud, quirky laugh. Your ability to talk and banter with anyone, and the way you love that quality in me. It’s the way you never use the word “allow” or “let,” knowing I am my own person who doesn’t need your permission.
It’s the way you encourage my dreams, believing in my ability to attain them, and providing a path for me to get there. You never doubt my abilities, even when!
I do. You’ve helped me define the best version of me, and I love who I am when I’m with you.
But most of all, I love that I never have to question your love.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
To read more of our letters, click here.