Wednesday, October 31, 2007
My friend and fellow blogging babe Candace is holding a contest that I entered today. (http://candacesalima.blogspot.com/) And since I figured it would be a shame to keep a good essay about a great guy to myself (and to her empirical decision of the top six entries) I figured I'd post my entry here:
My cute and adorable husband lives by a philosophy that I believe makes him a hands-down winner in any husband contest. After a few, short years of marriage, when I became a stay-at-home mom, he told me that he believes my job in the home is just as important as his job outside of the home, and that since we both spend our days working, when he gets home we’re even. He claims he doesn’t understand men who think they have the right to sit around in the evening while their wives continue working. The minute he walks in the door he jumps in with dinner preparations, laundry, dishes, homework assistance—whatever still needs doing. He has continued with that practice for all 25 years of our marriage, despite three facts that should get him off the hook: 1) all of our children are now in school. 2) much of my “working” day consists of writing stories that thus far have made no nominal contribution to the family budget. And 3) I’m a dreadful housekeeper who obviously doesn’t sweat much during her “work day”.
This would be enough to make him a keeper, but he doesn’t stop there. He was my rock and head cheerleader when I decided to go back to college at the age of 39, despite knowing that the financial cost of earning my journalism degree would never be returned. He’s been by my side through multiple illnesses and surgeries. When I had open-heart surgery months after the birth of our fourth child, he took on the role of nurse to me, and mother to our four little ones ages seven and under, without a single complaint. Any time I have been in a position to select a new course in life, he’s been there to encourage me to do the thing that will please me most, even if it isn’t the most convenient thing for him.
Best of all, he has a quiet sense of humor, and a gentleness that never falters. I can honestly say that in our 25 years of marriage he has never so much as raised his voice at me. My littlest son recently observed my oldest daughter and her husband playfully pretending to fight over something, and he said “Why are you fighting? You’re married!” Imagine that, despite my growing up in a home that fought more often than it didn’t, I have an eight-year-old who has grown up thinking married couples never fight. Believe me, I can’t take credit for that.
My Robert is not flashy or wealthy (though he is terribly handsome). He has worked in the same non-glamorous job for the past 20 years, and has never failed to be a good provider for our family. We don’t take fancy vacations, he doesn’t drive a sports car or wear designer clothes, and he doesn’t buy me expensive jewelry. But he loves me and our children immeasurably. He does bring me flowers, often for no reason other than he senses I need a boost, even though he considers them a waste of money, just because he knows they’ll make me happy. Sometimes I have to be careful before asking for a favor, because I know he’ll do it, no matter how much of a hardship.
That’s my man – my boyfriend, my best friend, my rock.