Genesis of Us

This morning my best friend went into my kitchen and made me my favorite coffee, prepared it just how I like it, brought it to my bedroom and put it on my nightstand as I was struggling to make the transition from asleep to awake. (It was a hard transition. I had a cranky toddler crawling all over me.) I was then told how much I was loved and asked if there was anything else that could be done for me. 

If there was ever a best way to wake up, this is it. Well, minus the cranky toddler. And my best friend? He's also my husband.

The Husband is a great guy. And I really can't say I've done anything to deserve a man as wonderful as he is. I can't. But what I can do is look back on our life together so far and find out why we have this bliss.

We were college sweethearts, which is an upgrade from the rebound couple we originally were. Born out of a yearning to forget old flames, our relationship started on a shaky foundation that was soon shored up by an inability to be apart. It was my first college romance, and I struck gold. 

We made some mistakes along the way. Some were apparent even in the moment; others, only the growth of wisdom over time made clear. We were immature and still growing up, and we said things or did things (or didn't do things) that were maybe unhealthy or just stupid. 

But we never ever gave up. The hardest times were when we were separated by distance or responsibilities. He was in a difficult engineering program, which required more and completely different methods of study than my "easy" biology major. He worked long hours off campus. Later, he took a seven-month internship more than 200 miles away. I shrunk into my wild, early-twenties emotions, the worst of which, to my credit, I was able to hide...er, I mean, shield him from.

When he asked me to marry him almost two years after we first met, I was so shocked I accidentally plopped my elbows into my dinner in an effort to bury my surprised face in my hands. I was completely caught off guard, even if I had already known he was "the One." Apparently I also forgot to actually say "Yes," leading The (now) Husband to lose a few pounds of sweat. He explained why he didn't wait any longer to ask me: after he had recently moved away for his internship, he couldn't imagine his life without me. Why wait?

We got married a year and a half later (too long of an engagement by far, but that is a story for another day). We lived together during most of that time, and that was when his method of being awesome really began to take off. 

And this is the secret: He always puts me first. 

As a real-time example, as I finished typing the last sentence, he came into the room that I'm writing in. He mentioned that I had already fixed something that had broken, and I replied, "Yeah, but I need the pliers with the wire-cutters on them. I couldn't find them. I have some long ends on the wires."

"You need the pliers? I'll get them for you!" he beamed, as he picked up a level I had used on the job. 

"Oops, I forgot to put that away," I admitted. I really would have done it, but I forgot it was there.

"No problem! I'll put it away when I get the pliers," he said with a smile.

Do you see what I'm saying? I haven't done anything out of the ordinary to "earn" this. He's always just done this. I didn't wash the dishes for an embarrassingly long time when I lived alone: he would wash them all when he visited without me asking and without comment or complaint. I didn't even think to cook dinner: "What can I cook for you?" I mentioned that I wanted some shelves above my desk to hold all my books and stuff. I didn't even ask him. But he had a full set of shelves up before the end of the weekend. I mentioned a couple of times over the years that it would be nice to have a guitar again. And even though it was on my heart, I never said much about it because it was really quite frivolous. Then one day he came home and tentatively put a brand new guitar in my hands and waited to see if it would be well-received. 

Ladies, I'm not a crier. I didn't cry when he asked me to marry him, I didn't cry at our wedding, I didn't cry when any of our three kids were born. But I cried like a baby when he gave me this guitar I wanted but never specifically told him about. I'm not a "gifts" person; I don't like buying them and I don't like the weirdness of getting them. But I've never felt so loved as when I did in that moment. It felt like that act of love kind of summed up our relationship: we go forward in faith and love and in a quiet trust that we each other's best interests at the forefront.

I'm not sure how many wives can count their husbands as their best friends. And I'm sure there are moms, possibly without a husband by choice or circumstance, whom I have offended by, well, boasting about my awesome husband/best friend combo. To those who don't know the joy of this bond, all I can say is that I am sorry. But some things demand to be memorialized in writing. We've had more than a decade of love and I hope we will get many decades more. I'll toast my coffee to that.

Warm Fuzzies Tuesday: My Awesome Neighbors

Ever since we moved into our condo way back in July of 2006, we've had these awesome neighbors that live across our sidewalk and upstairs. They are a family of five: what I presume to be a mom, dad and three kids (teenage son, younger teenage daughter, and elementary-school-aged daughter). They work in the athletic industry; perhaps they own a gym? I'm not sure, but I know the mom is a personal trainer.

We've never formally introduced ourselves, so while I think they know our names because we've mentioned them, I only know about half of their names. Isn't that sad? But now I'd feel like an idiot asking them what their names are.

Like I said, we've never had any kind of "formal" introduction, nor have we ever gotten together to hang out. But they always say "Hi" when they see us, and we like to chat when we see each other. The mom is especially personable. The kids never seem to argue or fight with each other. As it turns out, they homeschool, which makes the peace more understandable.

I've hired the teenage son on several occasions to pet-sit for us while we were out of state. He's always really serious and professional about it, and I don't know what I would have done without his help. The mom always goes ga-ga over Munchkin--after all, she's seen Munchkin grow up (albeit from an observer's perspective). When we had a big snow last winter, she lent us one of her sleds so we could go sledding. That family is always happy to help out.

Which is why, upon learning that my car battery was dead this morning, I went to them. Because while I HATE asking for help because I feel like I'm such an inconvenience and bother, I knew I needed it (the van is in the shop, so I couldn't use it to jump the battery, plus I have errands to run today), and I knew that they wouldn't turn me away.

I rang their bell and was horrified to learn that they just woke up (not horrified that they aren't morning people, but horrified that I possibly woke them from their slumber). But after learning my request, they happily obliged by getting dressed and coming down to help. It turns out that their vehicle wasn't working either, but they had a car battery charger to lend me. They even plugged it in to their own electrical outlet because the cord wouldn't reach my condo (my car is parked right in front of their porch).

Neighbors as friendly and helpful as these are more valuable than anything one could ever buy.

Now my car is working again and I'm wracking my brain to figure out how to show them my appreciation. Not just for this latest round of kindness, but for nearly three years of it. How do I give these warm fuzzies back? My first inclination is to bake something yummy. Home-baked goods are warm, tasty, full of love, useful, and not gaudy. But I'm scared that one of them has some kind of allergy and won't be able to eat (or worse, share a room with) something I make. How can I nonchalantly ask them about any potential food allergies without sounding suspicious? Heh, I don't think it's possible. I suppose I can just take a chance and gift them some banana bread.

They still don't know we are moving soon (a combo of it not coming up in conversation and me not wanting to jinx it). I kind of feel bad, too, because it's always a little upsetting for a community to go through change, and while I'm sure we weren't "model" neighbors, we weren't bad ones either, and I hope, for their sake, nobody crazy moves into our old place. But there's nothing we can do to affect that. I just hope they are blessed with happiness, because they've given out a lot of it themselves.