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Tuesday, May 20, 2014

He Leaves Me Notes

I love my husband.  A lot.

That's probably a good thing considering we're four kids, five pets and twenty years in.

But I kind of think the fact that I still like my husband is slightly more remarkable and possibly more valuable.

Why?  Because it's rarer.

Liking someone doesn't ride on a fickle rush of hormones or gushy romance.  It isn't anchored in years together or convenience or obligation.  No, it stands on its own.

If you like someone, it's because they're likable.  This means that, despite years and mortgages and dogs pooping on the carpet, they still care enough to be a person worthy of respect and affection.  They're still trying instead of taking you for granted or lazily living in selfish expectation. It takes effort to be likable and effort to like.

So that I like my husband is pretty precious to me.  I could spend years telling you why, too.  But something stood out to me today as a prime example of what I'm talking about:

He leaves me notes.

(To encourage me. . .to bless me. . .to make me giggle. . .to make me blush.)

He thinks about me, even when we're not together, and he wants me to know.  His notes leave a little bit of himself behind, so he's still with me even when he's not. 

They're a reminder that my husband is still present in our relationship.  That he's willing to take time
to connect with me and let me know I'm worth a little effort and creativity.  His notes tell me that he sees me, too--when I'm sad or celebrating or needing a little encouragement.

For what it's worth, I see him, too.

So for all the notes, dear Ian. . .for the twenty years and four children and endless numbers of pets. . .for the most glorious of highs and the deepest of sorrows. . .I thank you.

I love you.  I like you.


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