(after an extremely exhausting – but successful – day at work)

Allan: Why don’t you take the toll road home?  It’ll give you some time to relax.

Me: Oh, so I can relax for 10 minutes before making dinner?

Allan: Damn straight!

Me: No, see, this is the part where you’re supposed to say, “Don’t worry about dinner.  I got it.  I’ll figure something out.”

Allan: Don’t worry about dinner.  I got it.  I’ll go to Bojangles.


Marriage is weird.

You date someone for a while, get to know them a little bit, then take a giant leap off of a cliff higher than you could ever imagine.  You hold hands, close your eyes, and hope to land on the other side in one piece.

You sleep next to each other, eat next to each other, share closets and bathrooms, cars and mortgages.

It’s really intense, and it’s a giant fucking crap-shoot.

It seems like you should date for years and years and yearsandyearsandyears, AND THEN get married.  Really make sure you can make it work with someone before you legally bind your life to theirs.  Throw some kids, some pets, some surgeries into the mix and see how you deal with the stress.

And if you can handle the pressure, the mundane, the magic, the joy, and the shared utensils, go ahead and get married.

It seems so much more logical than the way we currently go about it.

Lately, I’ve been stressed.  My body’s been torn apart, first via c-section then appendectomy.  I lost my grandfather.  My brother is moving away.  My parents are hurting me.  My job responsibilities are increasing.  My home responsibilities are increasing.  My fuse is shortening.  I’m depressed.

And my husband’s still here.  Miraculously, he takes it in stride.  He takes all of me in stride.

This song just flowed through my headphones, and it has always, always reminded me of Allan.  I think he has a halo.  I think that because he’s the man who put a wedding band on my finger, I’m the luckiest gal on the planet.  If he had half a clue about how remarkable he is, about how much he has to offer, he would never be with me.

But I make him laugh, so he sticks around.  He also sticks around because of the vows we made, the ones that said sickness and health, better and worse.

So, that’s it.  I heard a song that made me think of him, and made me think of marriage, and think of how incredibly lucky I am to be married to a man who has a halo, even if it’s one that only I see.

All of this is because I heard a song that reminded me of how much I love him.

If someone came up to you and said, “You must have cancer.  Select which kind you want,” you’d pick the kind Allan got.  Hands down, you’d want his cancer.

Despite its frightning name – basal-cell carcinoma – it’s the best kind of cancer to get.  It’s the most common type of cancer that exists.

But it’s still scary.

When the idea that the lesion on his head might be cancer first came into my brain, my blood ran cold.  Icicles started accumulating in my veins.

Cancer.  My husband.  My 34-year-old husband.  Just the idea of it alone is heartbreaking.

When I told my dad, he said that in his opinion, cancer was the worst word in the English language.  I agree.

At 6:15 Wednesday morning Allan is scheduled to go to an out-patient surgery center where he’ll have the nodular mass removed from the top of his head.  I’ll be with him, as much as I can be.  Despite its small size, they expect the procedure to take up to six hours.  Cut, test.  Cut some more, test.  Cut some more, test.

He’ll need a full-body scan every year.  He’ll have to wear hats even more often than he already does.  He’ll have to be more vigilant about sunscreen, and he’ll need to apply a daily (manly) moisturizer – with sunscreen – every day.

And he’ll be fine.

A friend of mine sent me a pin (oh, Pintrest, you pain in the ass) with a 30 day blogging/writing challenge and I’ve decided to give it a go.

I know the ideal start date for this challenge would be January 1, but I’ll likely forget it by then, so I’ll just go ahead and start today.

Describe your current relationship

I’m assuming this means romantic relationship… My current relationship is with Allan.

We’ve been together for nearly five years(!!) and married for 3.  We were friends for years and years before we started dating. Evidently he was in love with me for quite a few of those years, but I had no idea.  It was sort of like a romantic comedy.

Once we started dating, we put our relationship in fast forward mode and were married 18 months after we got together.

Our relationship is remarkably healthy and happy.  I dare say we’re still in love with each other.  We don’t have many trivial things in common,  but our life goals are totally in sync.  He likes to play soccer and climb rocks, and I like to shop and watch tv, but we make it work.

He is a true partner in life and parenthood.  He is as hands on with Charlotte as I am.

Allan loves me.  He loves me and doesn’t try to change me.  The love he has for me, just as I am, has given me more confidence than I’ve ever had before.  He makes me feel safe.

There are no words for how much I love him.

He is, quite simply, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.