For My Funny Valentine

I am not a simple woman.  I am low maintenance, but any relief a man might get from that knowledge can be easily neutralized by a 24 hour period of moods swings, the combination of intelligence and sharp tongue, and reflex to shoot from the hip.  I have had lots of years of being single to become more the way I am, and for the most part, I am okay with it and have made peace with my issues as I have chipped away at them, but my husband has not had so much time as all that.  And though I have a relatively good perception of myself, I am fully aware that life with me is difficult, so I figured I would spend my life single and maybe take on a few cats.  Then along comes Chris, and here we are.  Simple as that.

My husband is tough; tougher than any man I have met.  He  also has a heart the size of Texas, and I’m amazed he has invested it in loving me.  I am a growly bear much of the time, and he puts up with it and me.  I love his tenderness, his ferocity with anything he perceives as a threat to me or the boys, and I am so thankful to be married to an intelligent man who spends time contemplating, for we have great conversations as a result.  He makes me think beyond myself.  

I have to have surgery.  It all started out as trying to find out about a stubborn rash and has ended up in a hysterectomy along with a watchful eye based on a mammogram.  No cancer...just watching...My husband works at the hospital, and has been on me for some time to get certain things taken care of, so finally I did.  Right now the anxiety disorder I have, agoraphobia, fights to keep me hostage in the house.  It happens every year when I am dealing with depression from bipolar.  So, adding a trip to the doctor for ANYTHING that requires an open-backed hospital gown is not going to go so good with my mental state.  

First it was the doctor’s office, which then morphed into an ultra sound and mammogram...I’m thinking, “Okay I can handle a little machine going over my abdomen and the mammogram...I can deal with that.”  The doctor didn’t bother to explain the type of ultra sound I would be getting.  So, a few mornings later I head in to get blood work, and then on to the waiting room for the ultra sound.  My husband, who is running around fixing everybody’s IT issues comes by and says, “I’m not sure you understand the type of ultra sound this is babe.  You are too calm.”  So he explains it to me, and I immediately go into a panic attack.

So hubby not only has to wear his IT work hat but has to put on his “calm the neurotic wife” hat as he holds me telling me it will all be okay.  He waits until I get things under control, telling me,  yes I can do it, and no I cannot bolt from the waiting room.  Once I have a tenuous grip he leaves telling me to text him.  

I won’t go into every sordid detail of the day, but my guy was on top of it all whilst doing his job.  He made sure a friend of his, whom he says is the best, read the radiology reports for my test.  He was busy talking to fellow workers about courses of action.  He got all my tests and consulted with everybody involved, all while I was at home, getting groceries, and going to the boy’s basketball game.  And when he texted me panicked, it was because he had read my mammogram result and was sure I had cancer.  Then he went to the radiologist and she told him exactly the situation and that it was not cancer.  

I cannot imagine the anxiety he was dealing with and how much interference he ran to protect me, how much fear he experienced, while wondering what to do.  Through that whole day he was a buffer between me and revelations my body had been keeping.  My guy has been more than I could have been for him if he were dealing with pending surgery and life changing events.  I’m thankful he is okay with what is going to go on here in the near future, and I’m so glad we are both on the same page about not wanting any more children than the two he has.  He has supported me at every turn, championed my education, supported us while I get my doctorate done.  He has not allowed other people’s views about the role a woman should play impact his own views, and he just works so hard. 

Everyone I ran into in the hospital that day told me how much they love and appreciate my husband, that he is a great guy, and that I am lucky I have him.  I looked directly at each of them and said, “I know that.”  He goes above and beyond in his working and is always kind, even when he gets calls at 3:00 in the morning from some computer illiterate individual who assumes because he or she is working at 3, everyone else it too.  He is not obligated, but he does it, because he has integrity and empathy.

So for this Valentine’s Day, I want to just put my husband up as the example for what loving someone is all about.  His wit and humor sooth me.  His kindness and empathy assure me I’m not alone and that he loves me just as I am.  His practicality and ability to know me well calm me, and his love heals me. 

He is my funny, smart, practical, strong, flawed and wonderfully unique valentine.  I am not a big fan of Valentine’s Day, but that does not mean I am not glad to have a valentine.

Edwin McCain is my all time favorite male vocalist.  Diane Warren wrote this song with him in mind for “Message in a Bottle”.  It was 1999 when I heard the words to the song, and  I remember wondering if I would ever find someone I felt that way about.  In 2011 I married him.

Babe, you enrich my life.  I couldn’t write it better than Diane or sing it better than Edwin, so here is my “singing card” to you. I so love you.

L