Dear Eddie, I often catch myself asking, “What kind of man is this?” Sometimes, I am laughing. Sometimes, I am exclaiming. Sometimes, I am wondering, in a really holy sense. Always, I am appreciating, even if I don’t say it at the moment.
What kind of man asks, “What are the growing edges of our marriage?” We are coming up on our 53rd anniversary, and you are still asking. And, when we have the conversations, you and I listen and set goals and try to grow, and you call us back to accountability to the goals we set. You ask.
What kind of man chases his wife at 75? You comment, “You have a waist!” “I like your butt when you (fill in the blank) open the stove drawer… bend over the dishwasher.” What kind of 75 year old man gets tickled rubbing in Aspercreme and catches himself drooling? You chase me.
What kind of man is that generous? You have always been a “touch” for panhandlers, but you really do have a huge heart. You are a big tipper remembering that “we have family in the restaurant industry.” You love to give balloons to the children who come to our farmers’ market flower stall. And, most notoriously, you regularly fuss that it is your turn for the $60 cut of the $100 ATM stop, but, I just turn around, and there you are paying forward for some little family in a restaurant, especially if they have that certain mix of kids just like ours. If the young dad catches us in the parking lot to protest, you bless him and his family and send him packing. You give.
What kind of man never hesitates to say I love you? Your most common question is, “Have I told you in the last 20 minutes that I love you?” You tell me.
What kind of man insists there be time for the two of us? You insist.
What kind of man does all of these perhaps crazy things? My kind of Man.
Thank you, precious,
Love, Sylvia
