Day 71

My favorite word in the entire English language is ‘husband’. It used to be ‘y’all’ but my recently acquired right to add a satisfying ‘my’ in front of the h-word quickly bumped it to 1^st place. I never, EVER use the phrase ‘my husband’ without feeling a little thrill. I hope I never grow accustomed to uttering those precious words.

In the early days of our marriage Josh & I established an evening routine. When he leaves work he texts me “Heading your way” and I answer “Yay!” As soon as Josh opens the front door he yells “Wife!” and I shout “Husband!” then he lays his briefcase on the kitchen chair and hugs me. He puts both his arms around me and holds me tight without saying a single word. It is the most precious moment of my day. I’ve always appreciated the fact that Josh hugs me hello instead of kissing me. It requires more effort than a passing kiss and it’s sweet and quite and it makes me feel like he’s been waiting all day to hold me in his arms. It is just a second or two and then he lets me go. He loosens his tie and lays his papers and name badge and pager all over my kitchen counter and starts telling me about his day, but it’s those quite moments when he first walks in that start my evening off so perfectly.

We often end our evenings in a similar manner. After we’ve turned off the TV and our conversation has faded Josh will sometimes whisper into the dark “wife” and I’ll turn to him and cuddle up and answer back with a whispered “husband”. He’ll kiss the top of my head and I’ll roll back over to my side and fall asleep. I love this. And so, on Saturday night while my east coast body tried to fall asleep on a west coast eve, I was desperately wishing for darkness, and my favorite pillow, and to hear my husband whisper in the dark “wife” so that I could turn to him and utter that sacred word back. I longed for it so much that tears streamed down my face and, finally, I fell asleep with the word husband stuck in my throat.