I know I didn't write a post about Valentines; I'm a rogue blogger like that. Better late than never.
So, Keith doesn't normally tell me half the crap that goes down at work. The stuff I do end up knowing is sad and disturbing enough as it is. I know he's had a bad day though, when he comes home, pulls me into his arms and buries his face in my neck, takes a deep, deep breath.
'You're the best wife ever," he tells me. "We have such a good life, we have every thing we need."
At night, he takes my hand in both of his and prays. He never fails to thank God for "everything You've done and given us..." and then for God to send us our own little baby, or if not, a little child that needs us.
When he got his NCOER, it was straight blocked excellent. He literally could not have been graded any higher. It was a perfect performance record. He took it into the top of his chain of command, the Sergeant Major, and personally asked that they drop at least one block somewhere so he could have something to strive for in the next one.
I read it, it was pretty astounding. On it were bullet points about how he had made sure all of his soldiers got access to training and education-I know, because doing that is a huge scheduling headache and involves a hundred different calls to other soldiers about where they're suppose to be and who's doing what.
Also, there was a bullet point about his having saved two NCO from failing their PT test, which would have cost them their rank. I know, because he personally ran with them morning after morning until he got their time up.
I read it standing in the dining room. When I looked up and told him how proud of him I was, he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.
"I couldn't have done it without you, little kitten," he said. "You earned that too. Behind every good soldier is a good wife."
I'm really enjoying writing all these faerie tales and reading fantasy and all that, but nothing can compare to my big, burly, flesh and blood modern warrior. He carries more weight into combat than knights in the crusades, he's battle scarred and has a the temperament of a viking.
We have definitely had some very tough, challenging times. but afterward comes the increased confidence and intimacy from weathering them together. It adds this solid, reassuring weight to the relationship, this growing knowledge that no matter what comes, we'll make it through together, because nothing else in life is more important. Not money, or pride, or the luxury of being right.
Sometimes I look at Keith's hand on the steering wheel as we are driving somewhere together. I see the young strength of them, how wide and masculine and sure they are, the backs of them all covered with curling golden hair, and his weather beaten leather watch encircling his wrist, and the simple, silver band he wears on one hand.
And I get just flooded with love, but more than that, I see how that hand will look twenty, thirty years from now, and I suddenly have this glimpse of how more deeply I will love him then, how all the times will blur together, a long, unbroken history, our history, a history no one else will ever know or share.
And that's far better than any simple, happily-ever-after could ever be.
