March 3, 2004
The sun in my sky


It's our first spring in our little house, and for the first time I can see that someone who lived here before we did actually cared about this place.

Suddenly we have things blooming in the yard, lovely things that we didn't plant. That ragged old bush in the corner of the yard turns out to be a camellia — a big healthy one, in fact, suddenly loaded with rosy blooms. And in one neglected planting bed, clusters of daffodils are coming to life, planted in careful rows by someone I have never met.

---

It's only Wednesday night but it feels like it could be Friday. I've been slammed this week with my regular job and with an additional freelance design project that I've been working on.

The freelance project was almost too much for me to handle, but I accepted it anyway. So I've been at work late for the past week or two, trying to knock out this beast. I stayed late for a couple of hours yesterday trying to finish it.

By the time I got home last night, my shoulders were sagging, and I was worn out and grouchy. But I still had several hours of work to do.

I grunted a hello to Tom and sat down at the computer with a sigh and got to work right away. My hours of work required me to build a bunch of complicated graphs. I hate drawing graphs. It takes me forever, and the end result never looks good.

After I'd been at it for a few minutes, Tom came into the office and watched me flailing away at the computer. Then he said something wonderful. He said, "You know, I bet I could draw those graphs really quick."

That was maybe the most generous, kindest, most loving thing he could possibly have said in that instance, and I almost cried when he said it.

Thirty minutes later, my husband had replaced my giant scary three-hour chore with a couple of effortless, charming graphs. I just sat there, dumbfounded, thinking, What would I do without him?

---

It is not the first time I've had that thought about my husband. He saves me on a regular basis, in ways so spectacular and sweet that it makes me stop and wonder gratefully why I was ever given the opportunity to be with him.

He is one of the best people I've ever met, and sometimes when I wake up on Saturday morning and look at him over on the other side of the bed, I feel a little bit sorry for everybody else in the world who does not have the privilege of being married to him. Because being married to him is great.

If you asked me what I liked most about Tom, I'd have a terrible time answering. There are so many things to like about him that it's hard to pick what I like most.

But I'd make an attempt by saying that he has a sense of humor that often leaves me in tears. And that he has a rather beautiful inability to take himself too seriously. I'd add that he is beloved equally by children, elderly people, and animals.


I'd also add that he sometimes puts on safety goggles when he's brushing his teeth, just for fun, and for safety.



I casually mentioned to him last month that I wouldn't mind getting flowers for Valentine's Day. He disappeared on Valentine's Day and came back a couple of hours later with his arms loaded with flowers, not just a little bouquet, but two, three, four, five bouquets, all different flowers, flowers he knows that I like best. And as if that wasn't enough, he also brought me chocolate chip cookies from the farmer's market, and made me a card out of construction paper, with a real-live cut-out construction paper heart glued to the front.



He is the peanut butter on my bread, the powder in my gun, the sun in my sky. Marrying him is the best decision I've ever made, and sometimes that I suspect that someone on the other side of the world must be suffering an undeserved lost love, because I'm just sitting back here at home, overwhelmed with gratitude, dazzled by my double portion.