An Open Letter To My Wife

Babe,You are an amazing mommy. The way you take care of our little munchkin is a thing of pure glory. The love and patience that flows out of you and into her is something I constantly admire and revere everyday. Her spirit is your spirit. Her sweetness is your sweetness. She didn't learn that stuff from me. You've taught her and encouraged her in ways that teach and encourage me not just everyday, but every minute.

Your love for life has been thrilling to me. Deep down, where I need to know it's true. Where I want to be convinced. Your heart opens up in me and gives me a secondary vault of strength and energy. I know I act like you're always bummed out like Eeyore, always sighing and harumphing around, but I want you to know -

it's not true.

You wake up in the morning with a happy heart and you (usually) go to sleep with a happy heart, if not a tired one. The more and more I meet and talk to other married guys, I truly realize how good I really have it. You take care of our family in such amazing ways every single day that I get bogged down with all the things I am thankful for in you, and regrettably voice them too seldom.

The term "homemaker" has become somehow derogatory in our current culture where the strong women's movement seems to demand CEO positions at major corporations and settle for nothing less. I reject that. Sure, any woman can be a CEO if that is what she wants. Women are certainly just as capable as men to run companies, but it takes a woman of infinitely more fortitude, patience, kindness, and sacrificial spirit to be a true Homemaker. I respect you and admire you far beyond any woman who can make it to the top of a company, because to make it as a Homemaker, you put the family before yourself.

And babe, you do it with utmost grace and poise.

You cook, clean, fold, swiff, scrub, vacuum, Kroger (that's a verb), entertain, and very rarely rest. You serve me and Emmy first, you constantly try to think of new things to cook, new ways to play with EKS, and new parks to play at. Not to mention carrying our second child in the most healthy, pure, and natural ways possible. You stay up all night with pregnancy-caused heartburn, discomfort, and frustration - all while making sure not to stir me.

I could go on and on, but let's just suffice it to say: I'm amazed by you.

You deserve more for yourself, and we deserve less. Your few minor imperfections are all but forgotten in light of your glory as a woman, a mother, and a wife.

These words don't seem like much, but all of what I've said above is contained herein:

I love you.

Be loved,

Your Husband

P.S. - You rock my world.

Happy Anniversary Babe: Five Years.

Five years ago, on the night of November 20th, 2004, I didn't sleep a wink. Lying in a hotel bed next to my brother and thinking that it would be the last time I shared a hotel bed with my brother was enough to keep me up. Thinking about what I was going to do the next day made me electric. The absolute commitment I was about to make. How many people would be there. It's a heavy thing, getting married, and it should not be done lightly.

I watched the clock all night long, waiting for 8am, or 8:30, or 9:00, or whatever time it was that we had to be up and moving. I finally got up a few minutes early cause I was driving myself mad lying there.

Standing up from the bed and walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I'd never felt more nervous. Never in my life, which isn't much to say, as I am typically a pretty chilled out kind of guy, but I'm not sure if anyone had ever felt that nervous before.

Micaiah had gotten a prescription for Xanax, to mellow her nerves, but she woke up feeling great. So I popped a bar, which chilled me out nicely. Too nicely, actually. After no sleep the night before, I was crashing hard. I felt drunk without the fun.

We had the rehearsal the morning of the wedding, because we weren't able to get into the church the day before. So everyone showed up and started running through the motions at the chapel. When to walk, where to stand, how to move, all that stuff. You have to go through that stuff or it looks totally messy when you do it for real. So we spent some time doing that. I'd say how long, but I have no concept of time on that day. I felt like I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

After the rehearsal, me and my dudes went to Cracker Barrel for breakfast and I was literally falling asleep at the table. The wedding wasn't until 2pm, with reception to follow, and then a four hour drive for me and Micaiah to Kansas City to stay at Hotel Philips for the first night of our honeymoon before continuing on to Keystone, Colorado the next day. I had way too much to do to be falling asleep at 10am.

So I popped an Adderall to combat the Xanny.

Bad idea.

I completely lost my appetite and the nerves came back full force. I was wide awake, but still tired. I felt like someone had grabbed a power line and zapped me with it. Electric, shaky, freaked out, emotional, fully awake but fully asleep, nowhere near where I needed to be. I was a zombie.

Back at the hotel, someone must've put me in my tuxedo, because I don't know how else I ended up there.

We went to the chapel where me and Micaiah were to see each other before the wedding to do pictures. They stood me at the end of the aisle, just me, and sent Micaiah in the back door, just her. The only other person in the room was the photographer. When I turned around to see my bride walking toward me, in all her radiant glory, like a buttery golden angel drifting to me in my sleep, I burst into uncontrollable tears. I was weeping. It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen in my life. It meant a lot to me (and still does) that she was essentially declaring her trust of me for the rest of her life. Its a deeply emotional thing.

The photographer was so overcome by the emotions in the room she started crying too, and then left because she felt like she was intruding on something amazing.

Now, after that there are only a few moments that I actually remember from that day: I was supposed to do a welcome type thing right before the ceremony started, which I had Fatt lined up to do in my stead because I was crying so hard I could literally not talk. As I walked down the aisle with the other groomsmen, I was going to give Fatt a signal if I needed him to say the welcome for me, but when I got to the front, Scram gave me a high-five as I stepped on to the stage, which gave me an easy settled feeling that somehow allowed me to appear normal for about two minutes. I opened my mouth, and words came out, and people laughed, and then it stopped and I realized I had gotten through it seemingly unscathed.

I also remember that Kate and Derek sang a Waterdeep song at the wedding, which, for a short time, calmed me down to a somewhat reasonable level of consciousness.

Other than that, I honestly don't remember much. We made it to Kansas City after the reception without crashing somehow, although we did end up wrecking the car later on the honeymoon. It was my moms almost new Mercedes and the windows still had "Just Married" written on the back. The cop didn't give me a ticket because he felt sorry for me.

So, I am sorry babe, but other than the pictures, which I only halfway believe, that is my memory of our wedding day. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Thanks for trusting me and thanks for being my partner.

Happy anniversary. I still love you the same, only a billion times more.

Your face, your race, the way that you talk

I kiss you, you're beautiful, I want you to walk

We got five years.