My Dearest Husband,
Well, she’s laying down right now, poor thing. She started feeling sick to her stomach again so I made her be still. I put the red bowl in front of her just in case, and I thought of you.
I’m feeling guilty baby, and I don’t even need reminders in the face of a red, puke-stained bowl to do it either.
Before you left this morning, you managed to clean out that bowl, and I wanted to kiss you then for your thoughtfulness, but honestly the smell of vomit kept me on my side of the coffee maker.
You were already running late for work, having stuck around watching your little girl. I know it was hard for you to leave her, and that made me love you even more. But still, you took the time to clean out that dang bowl of its belly of stinky vomit. As I watched you I winced, and not just from the smell.
A part of me felt like I had failed you. There you were leaving for work, and there I was in my pajamas still. I held our sick daughter in my lap and you watched us. Then she got sick again. I tried to catch it in my hands, even though that never works. I soothed her upset, rubbing my hand along her back, and felt up for the challenge of a sick day.
I was fortified with rest you see. I had slept the whole night through, even as you took gentle care of our sick daughter overnight. My heart was stabbed with guilt when I thought of it, as if somehow I had wronged you both by continuing to sleep.
I wondered if I was somehow starting to slip in my duty to our children and my duty to you. I knew that just the night before you had taken the graveyard shift as well.
I had heard the baby wake at 2am, night before last. I had heard her cry, and I had even thrown back the cover with full intentions of getting up myself. But then I heard you heading that way, and in that moment I sighed in contented relief, and I collapsed back into the bed.
Later I woke and I saw you sleeping with our baby in the chair, and I thought of taking her from you, and allowing you to return to bed. But I was so tired, and before I even knew it I had fallen back asleep. I didn’t spell you at all.
Today, as I watched you go out the door, exhausted from a long night with a sick little girl, I felt like I wasn’t doing my part. I felt like I had shifted more on you than was necessary. More importantly I worried that you had no idea that I felt this way, that I cared, or that I saw and appreciated every single sacrifice you made for me and for our little family.
When it’s late at night and I go to the computer to work, I hope you know my heart is always on you. Even when I’m in the other room, I’m right there with you. And when I sleep instead of get up, I’m still in this thing with you.
I think you know this, I’m quite certain you do. I suppose we have it that way, that you expect nothing of me. I don’t have to give of myself to receive your love. You just love me regardless.
I don’t have to cook your meals, or fold your underwear, or even take what’s rightfully my share of night shift child care. When I don’t, in fact, you love me still.
I suppose what I want you to know is that I see that. I see this unconditional love you have for me, and I feel the same way for you. I see that, and I see all the little, and especially the big things you do. I see them and I appreciate them. I appreciate you.
I love you without limit, and I know I don’t have to do things to show you that, but because I love you I want to. I’m also aware that is why you do the things you do for me. It makes me smile, and it makes me grateful that you are mine.
I never want you to feel like I take you for granted. You have never made me feel under-appreciated, and I offer you the same. We’re a good team you and I, and when it seems like I’m slacking off, or even if it doesn’t, know that I love you more and more each day.
God gave me a gift when He put you in my life. I can’t imagine any other partner I would want to have in this struggle through teething and puke. I can’t imagine anyone else by my side through the joy of first steps and infectious baby giggles.
I only pray I do my part half as well as you. You are a wonderful father, an amazing husband, and an inspiration to every life you encounter. I’m so thankful you chose me to be your bride.
To say “I love you” doesn’t seem like enough. I’m not sure there’s words on this earth that can convey the deep feelings I hold for you my dear, but I will say it still. I love you.
Forever,
Your Loving Wife
P.S. I’ll take the graveyard shift tonight!
David McLendon says
Aaaaaaaand cue the lump in my throat.
Be glad I’m not a woman, because I so would have married Ben. Having him as a best friend will suffice, I suppose. 😉
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
I’m glad you’re not a woman. He probably would have chosen you over me!