I was going to write a very long entry here all about my husband, Joel, on Thanksgiving so that all the world would know just how great of a husband I have. And then he got home from work Thanksgiving Eve, and all I wanted to do was spend time with him, hence this post has become a bit delayed in its release (and writing, for that matter). This morning, at about 3 am, I found renewed reasons to write this entry, and thus will continue telling you why, indeed, my husband simply rocks.
My husband, Joel, is about 4 inches taller than me, has broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and is the kind of man who always looks either devilishly handsome and slick or absolutely adorable. When dating, I had this way of evaluating men upon first impression as, “yes, he could carry me out of a burning building” or, “no, he could not carry me out of a burning building”. I’m not really sure if other women evaluate men as such, but Joel passed this test easily, and now a days I’m pretty sure he could manage our cat and whatever Children we may have in the years to come. His eyes are set a little far back in his head so that they shine like gems and you only see the full colors in direct sunlight. His eyes hold every wonder of nature in them, and they are the most beautiful explosion of color I have ever longed to gaze into. There is a light red-brown of redwood trees and a soft green like the moss that grows on them, the grey of great mountains or ocean cliffs, and the fading blue of the water that crashes among them. If you are like me, you probably think that most people with their eyes “set far back in their face” look like weasels. I think that too, but not about Joel. His eyes aren’t quite that far back, but they’re more forward, just enough to make you wonder what kinds of thoughts and dreams swirl behind them when he pauses in a conversation, and just enough to make him absolutely adorable when he relates to what you are saying on a heart-felt level. His eyes are always watching, and they listen just as acutely as his ears do. His shoulders are broad, yes. I’m pretty sure I could lay quite comfortably along them, if I really wanted to. His arms are strong and warm, his chest a perfect pillow for my pensive head, his legs are strong and enduring, and his body is always warm. He has messy dark brown hair that curls here and there, especially when it’s wet and he has a scruffy beard that makes him look older than he is. But of all of these wonderful things about Joel, even with as much as I love how he looks, how handsome he is, how beautiful his eyes, and how affectionate his arms, there is one thing I love about Joel more than all of these. And that is his mind.
Last week Joel and I started jujitsu training at a local do-jo. Joel introduced himself, “Joel, like the prophet”. One of my favorite activities is to sit on a bench in any given area with Joel and hear all of the stories he strings together for all of the people passing by. He can tell you the life story of any character with little hesitation, or sit in wonder at how this person managed to end up where they are in life. He’s glad to share a cigar or a brew with absolutely anybody capable of rational discussion and often has a beer with his best friends surrounding discussions of such. He seeks films that make him think and books that pose hard questions and articles that deserve to be turned upside down and given a good shaking. Highest in his mind are his morals, his values, and everything works around these. His faith is the center gear to the clock tower of Joel’s mind. His faith encourages his thinking, his reasoning, his rationalizing. He has learned much on his own, and in turn has taught others to bring them to reason with him, rather than to poke at them while they trudge along left to their own devices. When a man reaches out for help, Joel is not afraid to tell the man that he must help himself, nor to give him a hand, a home, and a meal in his belly. He has taught me much of what I know and helped me to successfully walk away from a relationship that by all means should have left me incapable of life as I know it today. He has taught me, I like to think that I have taught him a few things, and we continue to learn together. I don’t know many men who would rather read to me in the evenings than spend time watching the latest cable television show, nor who would rather watch biographies than the recent stupid comedy. Granted, every once in a while my brain is overloaded and I need a night of senseless fun, but Joel listens and we have our silly times too. Don’t be fooled into thinking that this man only ever wants to do serious and boring things, oh no. This is the man I go parking-lot dancing with, who frequently picks me up and tosses me into our bed just for the hell of it, who showers me with kisses and wrestles and plays with our cat. Don’t let him fool you into thinking that he’s only ever Mr. Serious. I will tell you stories and you shall believe otherwise. 😉
Now, as I’ve said, early this morning, my darling husband gave me all the more reason to love him, and to like him too. At three this morning, that’s 3am, I awoke with a heavy bladder and got up to use the restroom, as I have needed to do more frequently over this past week. But when I attempted to relieve my bodily fluids, they decided to just hang around and I was left sitting on a cold toilet seat, quite uncomfortable with a painful sensation and a need to pee. I called out to Joel and asked him to bring me some water, which he did with little hesitation, and curled back into our bed (the only warm place in the apartment after dark). Back on my unkind seat, I continued to have more pain than is reasonable in those little pains your body gets here and there, and once I had removed myself from this seat, again, I practically kicked my dear husband awake, informing him that I was distressed and suspicious that I had urinated some sort of blood. He sat up, a bit alarmed, while I poked over to webmd on my computer, searching for some sort of answer. (Those of you who know the answer, don’t give it away for the rest of the kids). He asked a bit more about my symptoms and successfully diagnosed me as having a UTI. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a urinary tract infection. Sounds like fun, don’t it? So at about 3:30-3:45 Joel was on the computer researching home remedies for these infections while I was moaning away from the bathroom. He found a few different remedies for this sort of infection, and even poked around for an alternate to one of them because I was whining about drinking 8 oz. of baking soda water. While I was frantically freaking out because I thought I was dying with blood in my urine, he was calming me down, getting me water, vitamin C, naproxen, encouraging me to draw a warm bath, and even after he’d gone back to bed at my urging, he called out to make sure I was okay after I thought he had been asleep for the past half hour. I finally returned to my bed around five, and his first question was if I was feeling better. He cuddled me close, wet hair and all, and fell right asleep, knowing he’d be ridiculously groggy in the morning. When the alarm went off this morning, he ended up needing to call into work to explain what had happened and ask if he could come in late, just to get enough sleep. We’re both very blessed that Joel works for such a company that actually cares for its workers and their families alike. He snoozed back off to sleep only to be woken by me every two hours asking if he needed to wake up yet. And he didn’t complain once. Not once. I kicked him awake in the dead of the night, insisting that I was dying and he should come and comfort me, and instead of swatting me away and rolling over, he calmed me down and took care of me. -All- of this after he had a rather upset stomach earlier that evening. ‘Twas a night of maladies in the Loukus household.
And that, ladies and gents, is why I love my husband: his handsome grin, his rich mind, his rock hard morals, and his calm sweet comforting nature. He is what I am most thankful for this year.
And now for something completely different: my cat is the spider slayer. He attacked a rather large spider last night, knocked it off the wall and into a pile of clothes (my clothes. Thanks cat), and then continued to track it down and kill it!! He tracked the spider!! Into the pile of clothes!! And found it!! My clothes!! What a cat, eh? What a cat.