Because Love Is Worth Missing Sometimes

So I was going to save this post for my tenth anniversary this spring.

But there has been some bitching about my lack of blog posting.  And I have been thinking about it a lot.  So here it is.

I did it for 2 of the kids, I will do one for the 3rd on his birthday in a couple weeks, but for now, here is my hubby.  As seen by me.

I have many people ask me what dh means.  I use it a lot.  It serves several purposes for me – it’s habit, it’s short, it stops me from using his name when I am not comfortable, and well, honestly I forget I even do it.

Years ago when I was a new military spouse, there was a term DW that referred, not always in a good way, to the Devoted Wife at home, the one who they didn’t have to worry about, who was like another piece of kit, given to the soldiers when they enlisted to watch the kids and the house while he’s away.  It was a throwback to the saying ‘If the Army wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one‘.  So many of the wives I knew, started using the term DH to describe their hubbies.  I believe then it means Devoted Husband.  Though I have been emailed guesses anywhere from Darling Husband to D*mn husband.  And really, I suppose then it depends on the day.

We met in middle school.  We ‘dated’ for a year at 13-14 and didn’t see much of each other after.  We went to different high schools and only saw each other at our one mutual friend’s house on occasion.  Until the year we graduated.  That spring we started to see each other more.  He asked me out.  I said no.  He offered to pick me up on his motorcycle.  I said yes.

We never would have even started dating if it weren’t serious.  He had already started his enlistment process.  We knew he would be leaving for Basic Training soon.  But he told me our first date he would marry me.  That he’d always known he would.  And he stuck by that.  Even when I told him he was crazy.  Even when I pushed him away and treated him terribly.

DH brought me to church with him.  And he wasn’t embarrassed by the girl next to him at the back in the too-short cutoffs and daisy duke halter top with high-heeled sandals (though his mom and dad were less than impressed and lets face it, I would be too if he was my son). 

He did not change my heart.  God did.  But his patience and endurance through all the garbage I threw at him, trying to challenge the idea that he loved me no matter what (I was sure I could find a ‘what’ that would break the deal) was amazing.  God used DH to model the love He wanted me to accept.  And, eventually, I believed in both.

He left for basic training and I went to college in Calgary.  He got posted to Edmonton and I finished my Diploma while we lived in separate cities.  As soon as I finished school, we got married.  He was 19 and I had just turned 20.  Most people thought we were crazy.  Some even laughed at us.  They’ve probably stopped laughing by now.

But my daddy gave me a princess wedding.  The kind I would never agree to now that I am older and (slightly) more sensible.  But when you are 19 and someone offers you ice sculptures, bagpipers, pianists and a full roast beef dinner, you take it all.  And then some.  It was amazing.  

And soon we moved into a 2 bedroom, 580 sq. foot PMQ in Edmonton.  I was ecstatic at the time.  It was ours, together.  For when we were together.  The first 18 months we were married, he was home less than 5.  We had only been married 9 months when he left for Afghanistan for the first tour.

I remember after we had bought our house, moving from our Q and realizing how ‘in love’ I must have been to have been excited to move into the asbestos filled, paint peeling, electrical disaster of a house.

Since then there’s been 3 kids and 2 more tours.  I stopped adding up the months he’s been away.  A history of all those years together would be boring.

But, let me tell you about the kind of man he is, my dh.

I hate mornings.  A lot.  And he has to get up really, really early (to me).  So every night, he puts his uniform, PT gear, whatever he needs, and hangs them on the banister outside the bathroom in the hall.  So when he gets up, he just leaves the room, and leave me to sleep.  I don’t hear a peep again until he comes in to kiss be goodbye.

Well, that’s sweet you say, but that’s just one thing. Well, that one action describes who my dh is to me. 

Never once in our marriage has he complained if I go out and he has to ‘watch’ his own kids.  He encourages me to get out.  He is an amazing dad who loves his kids dearly.  He has never asked for his own downtime, even though many times he comes home from wherever he was where he has been working and takes on the responsibilities at home.

 Last month he was in the field for his daughters 5th birthday, so he had his whole Troop call and sing her happy birthday.

He almost always walks around the car to open my door for me.  Even now 12 years after we’ve been together.

He thinks I am beautiful and never, ever, has he given me a reason to doubt that.  Even pregnant.  Even post-pregnancy.  Even though he married a women almost 30lbs lighter than I am now.  He still stares at me when I walk in a room and he’s still proud to hold me on his arm when we go out. 

He is hot.  He works out, it’s in his job description.  He makes cadpat look good.  Many months in the sand his given him the sexiest wrinkles around his eyes.  And the only women he worries about impressing, is me.

He has successfully and without complaint provided for a family since he was 19 years old.  He works hard.  He has done more in his 29 years than some men have done in their entire lifetime.  He makes me proud every day.

And he has many military accomplishments too.  He has lots of shiny things on his uniform and fancy coins from commanders, that tell stories of what he has done and places he has been.  He’s fought three tours of duty in a war, he’s lived for months on hard rations in the desert, he’s travelled to more countries then I can count.   He’s fought forest fires, been security at the Olympics and teaches classes on Armoured Vehicle Recognition.  He can command an entire Reconnaissance Patrol, he can crew a Leopard Tank and he’s been trained in unarmed combat.  He’ll tell you about those things if you ask.  But he would never tell you this stuff.  This is who he is to his family.

We are apart a lot.  But that matters so much less when we are together.

And after I have spent a lot of this afternoon blogging this when I could have been cleaning, he probably won’t complain (much).  Especially after he reads this 😀

That’s my DH.  As I see him. 

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