My Husband

This post will have capital letters. Don't be alarmed, I'm writing it on my iPad and the iPad is not lazy like I am.

I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life.

It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.

E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"

Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.

E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"

I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.

"just before sunrise?"

"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."

"Cool."

"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'"

If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.

But he never does.

Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.

I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.

I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.

This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.

There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.

Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.

Twelve months is not so long.

Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.

People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.

I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.

It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.

I married that man.