Every year around Thanksgiving, I write my post on thankfulness. I’ve been doing this for years: 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014 I skipped, 2013, and 2012.
You’d think I’d run out of things to be thankful for. Not so.
On the thirteenth anniversary of the day my husband and I met, he was in a head-on collision. He was at work, making deliveries in Ohio when a driver fell asleep at the wheel and hit him. The airbags deployed, and I’m positive that they saved his life. Much how my sister’s did when she was involved in an accident several years ago. He called me around the usual time he checked with me — lunchtime — and I had every reason to believe that it was business as usual. When he told me he’d had an accident, I was stunned. He was talking to me on the phone, yet shaken up, so it couldn’t have been that bad. But still — the writer/researcher/worrier in me freaked out. Head injuries. Whiplash. Messed up knees (which actually happened to me two weeks after I started going to college. I had tendonitis in both knees for a very long time). Anything could be wrong and not obvious.
But he was talking to me, which meant his brain was okay. He didn’t break any bones. No whiplash. You have no idea how relieved I was.
We were supposed to go out to dinner for our anniversary. First, we made a trip to urgent care per his work to make sure he was, indeed, okay. As he filled out the form, I still felt nervous. It talked about chest pains and seeing the receptionist immediately and we did that because he was sore and I couldn’t imagine if it was his heart instead…
Guys, this man is my absolute everything. I found him at a point in my life when I wasn’t looking for love and my heart had been broken too many times. But after a few conversations with him, things just clicked. It was like my soul already knew his, and this was just a natural progression. He told me he loved me after three weeks of dating. He gave me a promise ring at Christmas. The following year, he proposed. Two years later, we got married. It was the two-year anniversary of the day he proposed, June 27th. I remember watching him walk down the aisle to take his place and felt so insanely happy that my eyes filled with tears. Happy tears. Tears that said I was finally where I was supposed to be with the right person. The man I’d waited thirty years to find.
Over the years we’ve had challenges, heartbreak, and many happy times. We grow stronger every day. Our hearts are full. He is truly my best friend and soulmate. He makes me laugh. He lifts me up when I need it. He supports my dreams. When I decided to go freelance, he was the first person on board — and the only one who never stopped believing that I could build my own business and thrive. Those were tough times. It would have been easier to encourage me to go back to traditional office work. But he knew the emotional and physical toll it was taking on me. He never stopped believing, not once, not even after an awful misstep that had me re-evaluating everything.
So when I was faced with the very real possibility that he was injured, maybe more than we realized, I prayed. I prayed that we’d have many more years ahead of us. I prayed that he’d be okay, that he wouldn’t be in pain. I prayed that this was just another bump in the road and that we’d get back to life.
And, miraculously, he was proclaimed fine. Sore and a bit scraped from his seat belt, but fine. His knee is still a bit wonky, but these things take time. Mine took forever. He’s okay, guys. I still have him with me. Every day. And I will never, ever take him for granted.
Sometimes he says that he can’t believe that I’m real, that we’re together. Well, sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to have him. I’d been abused, physically and verbally, cheated on, and generally treated like crap by my first husband, and I never dreamed I could ever find anyone who didn’t. I believed that I was unlovable, too broken for anyone to love.
My husband tells me every day that he loves me. Every time we go to hang up the phone, he tells me. Every night when I come to bed, no matter when, he always extends his hand for me to take. We joke about it, but I see it as a reaffirmation of our love. That even in his sleep, he finds me. Even in his dreams, I’m there. Just a few inches away.
So I am so very thankful for him. I am thankful that this accident didn’t hurt him. I’m thankful that he’s my husband, my best friend. I’m not sure what my life would be without him. I don’t think I’d be the same person. He has taught me every day what it means to love. What it means to have another person filling your heart so much. This Thanksgiving I will give thanks for all my blessings, but especially him.
And yes, we still went out to dinner. We didn’t want to let the day pass without some kind of acknowledgement because that was the day it all started. The day I found my true love. The day that changed my life forever.
Thank you, my love, for choosing me to spend your life with. Here’s to another fifty years together.
(P.S. I am crying happy tears as I am writing this. Pass the Kleenex, please!)