I have been trying hard to remind myself why I still love my wife.
Lists can be helpful sometimes, so here goes…
I love the sound of Hope’s laugh. It is unmistakable. I’ve always been able to locate her in a crowded room when I hear her laughter. I love that she has such a unique sonic signature.
I love her eyes. The shimmering blue color reminds me of a springtime sky reflected in water. I love them when they sparkle with happiness, when they well with tears during a sweet movie, or when they begin to be hidden behind weary lids at the end of a long day. I love that, for so many years, I saw love for me in those beautiful eyes.
I love her heart for her students. She connects with young people with authenticity and enthusiasm and it’s a large part of what makes her a great teacher. She shows her students that she cares about them and she celebrates their successes. I love how playful she can be but how she manages to maintain control in the classroom. It is a brilliant balance, and she is so skilled at it.
I love her confidence. She is definitely not bashful, and her outgoing nature has always been the perfect foil for my more socially awkward and shy tendencies. Whenever we’d go to a party or gathering, I felt secure when I stood near my wife. She was my corner and stability in a crowd.
I love the feeling of her hand in mine. I can still clearly remember the first moment that I held her hand. I can see, in my mind, our fingers touching. Intertwining. Becoming united as we, ourselves, would eventually unite in marriage. I miss her touch so much these days. I want to be able to walk over to her and take her hand. But now her hand seems like a former home that I can drive by and view from the curb but never again see from the inside.
I love the commitment for Christ that I used to hear in her words and see in her actions. I recently found the study guide she used for a women’s Bible study several years ago. Reading through a few of the comments she wrote in the margins of the book revealed such a different person than the woman that I see now. I miss the desire for holiness that I used to see in her.
I love how hard she works and how selfless she can be.
I love that she roots for the underdog and applauds the happy ending.
I love that she believes that character is what you do when no one is watching and that she will tell the checker when she’s been given too much change.
I love that – when we first started dating – she pretended to be fooled when I stood on a curb in an attempt to be taller than her. I love that she looked past the surface and chose to love me. I love that I had the bewilderingly wonderful chance to say “I do…” to such a beautiful and remarkable woman.
I love that there are four young people walking around on the earth who are the physical reminders that Hope Carol Harrison and David Allan Cosand were in love and were married and accomplished something important and lasting. I love that rejection doesn’t make that disappear.
No matter how illogical it may seem, I still love my wife.