About a month or so after we got married, Mark and I went out to dinner with friends who were married a few years before us. When dinner was over we headed to the car hand in hand and I asked Mark if he had noticed that they never held hands.
I never want that to be us, I told him. I was head-over-heals in love and wanted him to hold my hand every moment it was empty for the rest of our lives.
That was over seven years ago and I think we held hands once this month, or maybe just our palms touched as we passed kids from one to the other.
But today, and everyday, I love him just as much as I did that day in the car.
I love him the same and different and more.
Because when I do the laundry I find hair bows and pacifiers in pockets where golf tees used to be,
because he can turn “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” into a mean lullaby,
because his idea of a crazy Saturday night is laughing together as our kids streak through the house, pajamas flying.
And because I have learned, there is a lot more to marriage than holding hands and gazing into each others eyes.
There is laughter and tears and laundry and grocery shopping and more-than-full-time jobs and sick kids at night and sleeping with little elbows in your ribs and more moments of wonderful and heartbreaking than I can count, and it is all worth it.
Because there is someone at your side through it all, whether they can reach your hand or not.
Some day we will have empty hands to hold and I will find golf tees where hair bows once were and “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” will be reclaimed by its rightful owner and, I would imagine, there won’t be quite as much streaking on our Saturday nights, but I will love my husband the same and different and more,
all over again.
Happy Father’s Day to my amazing husband, my wonderful dad and to the many dedicated dads out there.
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