A Love Letter To My Husband


Okay, bear with me.  I’m going to use this post to shamelessly hit on my husband.  Blogmaster’s prerogative and all that.

Handsome man,

It’s been…

almost 14 years since we first met at that scouting camp in Virginia.  Remember?  We saw you sleeping on the bench swing and woke you to ask for my brother.  It turned out that you were his tentmate and you would be happy to escort us to him.  I’m glad you did.  I thought you were awful cute then.  I was also happy that you had to go to town to buy shoes.  I got to see a little more of you.

It’s been…

over 12 years since my first church stake dance.  I worked so hard to have all of my Young Women work passed off so I could go.  I got dressed up my very prettiest and my mom curled my hair.  When I arrived, you literally leaped across the dance floor!  To say I was flattered was an understatement.  You were the perfect dance partner-sweet, funny, attentive-and you danced almost every dance with me.  Even after I took my high heels off and was no longer as tall as you.  No wonder dances after I moved weren’t nearly as fun. I think that was when I started to fall madly in love with you.

It’s been…

slightly more than 10 years since my parents flew you out to Colorado before your mission.  Even though we were in constant contact (as the phone bills and our various dates would attest), I hadn’t seen you for so long.  I’m still sorry that I had so much schoolwork to do over the break and that my dad kept taking you to Home Depot to make sure we were never alone together.  I admit, I was very tempted to read your journal when you left it in the family room.  I wanted to know what you thought of me after a few years.  I (mostly) resisted.  And I cried on the way home from seeing you off at the airport.  I wouldn’t see you for two more years.

It’s been…

exactly 10 years since you set off on your mission.  The cruelest twist was you leaving on February 14th.  I was a little teary-eyed that day at school.  When I got home, though, a package was awaiting me.  You had sent me a missionary bear and a white rose.  Do you know you were the first boy to ever give me flowers?  You leaving wasn’t as bad as I cuddled my bear.  But I still missed you.

It’s been…

exactly 8 years since you returned from your mission.  Done with saving souls and making silly tapes for a certain college girl, I surprised you when I came out for your Homecoming.  That first hug from you felt so good.  And, as embarrassing as it was to be thought of as fiancees at Irish Eyes, secretly, I loved it.  I’m glad I was able to help some when everything happened with your dad, and I’m especially glad my being at the party scared off the other girls.  Mission accomplished.

It’s been…

about 6 1/2 years since you came out to Provo to visit me.  It still cracks me up that we were so obviously in love that the senior missionaries on Temple Square couldn’t stop talking about it.  I still remember us walking down the bike path (while I wished that stupid bike wasn’t between us) and you proposing nonchalantly and hesitantly.  My heart almost flew out of my chest when I realized that you were actually asking me to marry you.  And then we shared our first kiss outside my apartment complex.  Of course, that wasn’t our last… 😉

It’s been…

more than 6 years and 3 months since we were married in the Washington D.C. Temple.  Thank you for marrying me.  Thank you for being willing to elope with me if I wanted to.  I remember cuddling on the couch because we were so tired from the wedding.  My brother complained about us.  We told him to be quiet.  At the reception you were just like you were at our first dance, because that’s who you are.  I got to talk to your grandma for the first time, and hoped she approved of me.  I still wish I had shoved that cake in your face.  Afterward, it was sad to leave everyone.  But I was excited to start our new life together.

It’s been…

a busy 6 years of wedded bliss.  We got pregnant right off, despite our plans.  I had to drop out of college and you found a job just in time.  We decided in one Sunday afternoon to move states to a town we’d never set foot in and rented an apartment sight-unseen.  Laura was born, you went to school, and we were so poor.  We had difficulty having another child.  You held me whenever I cried about it.  My back gradually got worse, especially when we got pregnant with Max.  And you were the most amazing husband to a pregnant woman the world has ever seen.  You were the boy from that dance, all grown up.  You are still amazing as we deal with my back and fibromyalgia.  You still hold me when I cry.  I only wish I were half as wonderful as you.  You are certainly my better half.

As we face a new year and are (kind of) nearing the end of school for both of us, I wanted to let you know that you were always the only one for me.  You were the first boy I ever fell in love with.  And I never fell in love again.  I can’t NOT love you.  I don’t even know how.

And I don’t want to.

Happy Valentines Day, my love.  Here’s to an eternity more to come.

Oh, and I’m sorry about my dad and the sword.  I really didn’t know he would do that.

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6 Comments Add yours

  1. kadusey says:

    That is incredibly adorable. I remember how incredibly excited you were every time he sent you a tape while on his mission. And how floaty you were when you got engaged. I’m so happy that you are just as infatuated with him now as you were then. Happy Valentine’s Day to you both.

    1. You know, I couldn’t lie about any of this if I wanted to. Between you and my mom, you’ve been privy to the entire thing and could catch me in a second. Yah, I was pretty hooked on him in college… And still am. 🙂

  2. Amanda says:

    I will willingly support every woman who wants to love on her hubby!! Yeah you!! And sounds like you got a great guy!

    Blessings-
    Amanda

    1. He is wonderful. Hope you had a wonderful Valentine’s Day!

  3. Mom says:

    And I remember when your brothers interrupted your tape to him, saying “When are you two going to get married?” To say that you were unhappy with your brothers is probably an understatement.

    And who can forget them chanting, “It’s about time!”, when the engagement finally came!

    1. Indeed. Those annoying brothers… Maybe the whole Alps incident was subconcious revenge. 😉
      Actually, when we got engaged, everyone was saying ‘It’s about time!’ We didn’t get to surprise anyone! Poo.

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