Too Many to Count
If you know me at all, you know that, several decades later, I'm still madly in love with my husband. His "love language" is Acts of Service, and there's not a day that passes that he doesn't show me in some form or another how much he loves me. While I was contemplating something special he'd done for me this morning, I thought this would be the perfect post to start my November Thanksgiving Gratitude Challenge.
We started as neighbors and business partners. I was a single mother of five young daughters (youngest who is developmentally delayed). He was a confirmed bachelor, a contractor who could swing a mean hammer and wanted to rehab Victorians in Downtown Colorado Springs where we lived. The father of my daughters only wanted sons and no longer lived with us nor supported us, so I needed to find a job that would enable me to bring my kids along when they weren't in school. My neighbor asked if I wanted to help him rehab, he'd teach me everything I needed to know, and I got pretty proficient at plumbing, electrical, drywall, mudding, pounding nails, etc. We let the girls tear out sheetrock.
A decade later, the confirmed bachelor decided he couldn't live without us and asked "us" to marry him. Life has been (seriously) blissful since then. I'm the extrovert, he's the introvert. It's an incredible combination.
He does for me every. single. day. He says he's trying to keep up with me and how much I do for him, so it works out well. I let him believe it.
- He still works as hard as any contractor in their 30s
- He makes me tapioca and banana/chocolate chip muffins when I'm sick
- He puts gas in my car whenever I need it
- He fixes my car when it breaks
- He indulges me daily
- I don't remember the last time I was in a grocery store
- He loves to cook for me
- He takes Callie (youngest) wherever she needs to go
- He plays cards with the grandsons
- He taught the girls to drive. Now it's the grandkids.
- He makes my incredible real estate signs
- I asked for a mallet and he made me an entire set of wooden utensils
- He brought home an 1880 door and made me a headboard
- He made our living room tables
- He mows our acre of grass and won't let me get him a riding mower
- He took loving care of my mother for ten years in our home
- He leaves notes in random drawers to tell me how much he loves and adores me
- He grinds the wheat and makes our bread
- He does the dishes
- He makes me belly laugh almost daily
- He rubs my feet to help me sleep
- He drops what he's doing to fix inspection items on my listings
- He moves furniture around when I get bored with it
- He comforts my girls when they're heartbroken. He is their dad.
- I say something in 1000 words, he profoundly summarizes in 10
- If I express a desire, he remembers and makes it or brings it home
- There's nothing he doesn't know how to do - except dance. He can't dance
- He helps me make the bed every day
- He does his own laundry
- He brought Popeye's new chicken sandwiches home for dinner LOL
- We hop in the car and drive for hours thinking up book plots
- He cries when he reads my novels
- There's a little of him reflected in all of my books
- He still makes my heart skip a beat when he walks in the door
- He even shared cancer with me
I know I may sound sappy, but in almost thirty years we've never had a fight. We respect each other and listen to what the other has to say. I tell my girls all the time . . . what I want most is for them to find their own Dave.