My Husband is a man, much like any other man, on the outside. If you passed him on the street you might give him a cursory glance, perhaps check him out. He appears to be Mr. Middle America. Jeans? Check. Begging kids trailing behind? Check, Check and Check.
But stop for a second. Take a closer look. Notice the crinkles around his eyes? He got those from smiling at me and our babies. Notice the worry lines on his forehead? Those are from the many sleepless nights he has spent listening to my worries, or rocking a baby back to sleep after they've had a bad dream. Keep looking. Do you see the slightly graying temples? All me. (and maybe a little bit of the kids) Look even closer now. Look at his soft kind eyes. His eyes tell you everything you need to know about this man. This man that you might not take a second glance at, is a hero.
He is an ouchie kisser, a bed time story reader, supreme ice cream cone maker, piggy tail doing, couch snuggling DADDY! A slayer of dragons, a leader of prayer, a calmer of fears, a rock that we, his family cling to in times of sadness, in times of joy. A hero in the truest sense of the word.
Look again and notice the deep sadness that is right at the surface.
This year has been especially tough for us. Him. This year my Husband and I, we lost our child. Our Daughter. Our Leta Blue. While I keened like a wounded animal, he was there, picking me up off the floor. While I sobbed and screamed in anger, he was there. And while I pushed our child from my womb, our child, so still and silent, He was there. And afterwords, when they had wrapped our stillborn daughter in a blanket and taken her away, away to a cold dark place where Mommy could not hold her. Away. He was there. His arms held me as our tears mixed together. Both of us clutching her blanket. As I questioned the fairness of it all, he was there with reassuring words, reminders of our faith, and touches and glances. As I could not hold myself up on the day of our Daughters funeral, he was there letting me lean into him. He was my strength. Is. And as I grieve for our Daughter, the one we could no see. The one who came too soon, and was born too silently. He is there. He is there.
A calmer of my fears. A soother of my agony. A kisser away of my tears. My love. My rock. My best friend. My Hero. My Husband.