Friday, October 29, 2010

To My Missus

It's hard to say how glad I am that you're at home waiting for me. I couldn't do this if it weren't for you. It's for you I work these hours, that I put myself through the ringer. When you light a candle for me to see when I drag myself up the walk I feel like a sailor coming home to port. I forget that my knees feel like rusty hinges and my shoulders feel like they're hanging on by strings. It's like the people who tear me apart every day did that to someone else.

When I push through the door and you turn and smile at me the weary man drops away and the excited little kid inside of me feels his heart leap. Even if you're exhausted too and your hair is flat your smile has enough light in it to erase all the darkness in my life. You are radiant when you smile. Your eyes are my undoing, and the mending of my hurts.

Almost every day I thank God that we are not like other couples. That our love reaches far beyond the excitement of meeting and dating. That if the thrill is sometimes gone it's been replaced by something so much better. That it extends to dirty dishes and doctor visits, cookies dropped off at work and laughter when our eyes meet over the kids' heads.

I've never had much and I don't expect I ever will. The longer I live the less it seems to matter. When I prayed for a wife I got one that made me richer than most men can dream of. A slice of your bread in my hand. A scolding when I need it. A song from your lips. Laughter in your eyes. These are all my riches and I know it, every day I know it like I know my name.

I'm glad you're mine.

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