A love letter to my husband.

Davey my Davey,

Three years ago today we had our first real date. It was Friday the 13th which seems ironic considering how everything has turned out. I remember having met you at work on my first day at my new job a few weeks earlier and it makes me smile because I remember us being introduced as you were fumbling with an armload of things while trying to get into your office. The moment you shook my hand and told me your name, a thought flashed in my mind: "He looks so kind. I think I'll marry him." Later I tried to shake some sense into myself for having such crazy thoughts about someone I didn't even know. Besides, you were probably either gay or married and you looked at least 40 years old which was REALLY old to me at the time. The fact that you were actually 49 became inconsequential. I remember asking you if you preferred to be called Dave or David as an excuse to make conversation and you told me David. I immediately went on to call you Davey almost exclusively.

That night I met with my friends to celebrate my new job and told them that I had met the man I was going to marry, and that he was older than me. "Not an old man again, Kirsten" They told me "Remember the last older man you went after? Need we remind you that not only is He old, but his Balls are old. Yes, leave it to you to date OB." On our first date we picked tomatoes in your yard and you earned the nickname OB 2 Tomato from then on out. You were so kind. And real. I saw a deep loneliness and hurt in your eyes and I just wanted to make everything better and tell you that everything was going to be OK. You could trust me. I was the one who would heal your wounds and never leave you. You helped me fix my deck and I remember you looking up from under your wide brimmed hat with your goofy overalls on, wiping sweat from your brow, taking a big swig of water and saying sheepishly out of the blue "You know....the age difference doesn't bother me."We have barely spent a night apart since.

We have been through a lot these last few years. From a whirlwind courtship to the night we found out we were pregnant with Goldie and couldn't decide what to do. So we just cried and held each other, both of us secretly wanting to keep the baby, but knowing it was way too soon. But it wasn't. Before we knew it we were married, you moved in and we brought our baby into the world and made a family. Then another. And we laughed and we cried through it all and held each other close knowing that we may look like an odd match, but things couldn't be more perfect.

Some people don't know you at all. They see you as gruff or impatient or rude. I don't know that side of you. The You I know is so caring to us. You squash spiders and change diapers and dress baby dolls, kiss ouchies away and cry with me during The Color Purple. You understand my eccentricities and are always my biggest fan. You support my dreams and whims and when I told you after Goldie was born that I wanted to quit my job there was no discussion to be had. You make my wishes a reality. I will always remember the night my water broke in bed and I woke you convinced that I had wet the bed and could you help me change the sheets please? I know you as the man that sniffed the sheets and told me it wasn't pee.

I love you Davey. Thank you for making my life complete for whatever time we have together. I promised you a lifetime. And that is what you are going to get.

Forever Yours,
Kirsten