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Saturday, June 2, 2012

My Favorite Person.


So, after the last two Saturday posts about hugs and kisses, and the whole idea of “looking for the good in people”, I just can’t go another day without writing about my favorite person.

When I was 15 years old, my friends and I went to a party.  I ended up on a barstool in a friend’s basement, shamelessly flirting with a boy I had gone to junior high with but never even met.  He was one of the only people at the party who had already had his 16th birthday, and was therefore talking about his car.  I don’t remember what else we talked about, but I know that my friends and I made fools of ourselves.  The next day, my friend told me that she had a crush on him.  I didn’t want to tell her that I did, too, so instead I set them up to go to a little dance together at our school. The rest of us girls went without dates, so we were all together that night.  Fortunately for me, my friend backed out and decided it wasn’t really what she wanted…but it was what I wanted!

I will remember that fall for the rest of my life. I remember sitting in my childhood bedroom, “chatting” with him online and him asking me to be his girlfriend. I remember sitting at a football game…he gave me his sweatshirt, I wore it home that night, and didn’t take it off for the entire weekend.  I remember my mom just smiling at me.  I remember telling my friends, “this is the one”. Of course, what sixteen year old doesn’t say that about her boyfriend? 

For the next three years of high-school, we were together every day.  We laughed, we fought, we formed a circle of friends that lasts a lifetime.  We made memories, we went through the ups and downs of life together.  We graduated high school, and the cycle started all over again—we laughed, we fought, we even broke up for a little while, and then one night I saw him again and knew, it just couldn’t be the end.  He was there with me through it all—dorm life, apartment life, exams, even my 40 page thesis. 

And then one night, after a long night of cards and good times with my family, we got in the car to drive back up to school.  About halfway there, he turns and says to me, “what would you say if I asked you to marry me right now?” (yes, he was driving at this time!). I say, “of course you know I would say yes”, and then I see the white box in his hand.  I have never smiled so much or so hard in my life—all the way to the apartment, where he got down on one knee, and slipped the beautiful ring on my finger.  We spent that night drinking sparkling juice and watching movies in my tiny twin bed in my apartment.

Then I moved to Spain for 5 months…the longest 5 months of our lives.  When he came to visit me there, I literally felt like my heart would beat out of my chest before he got off the plane.  When I saw his face, it was like I had gone home again.

On September 8, 2007, I woke up ready to marry the love of my life.  I wasn’t nervous, I wasn’t worried about anything going wrong, and it didn’t.  It was the perfect day.  I remember sneaking into the back of the church with my bridesmaids, and stealing a peek at him through the window.  All at once, he looked like the 16 year old on the bar stool, telling me about getting his driver’s license, and yet at the same time I could see in him my future, our future—our life, our children, our happy ending.

Three months later, I wanted to start a family.  He looked at me like I was crazy, and yet in the same breath he said “yes, we should”.  And so we did.  Nearly 9 months to the day after he said “yes we should”, we welcomed our son into the world.  Since then, we have lived in two houses, welcomed another son, and will soon be welcoming our daughter.  We have celebrated ten wonderful years together, we have taken trips together, we have even bought a mini-van.  Together. 

At 27 years old, some days I can honestly sit and remember that warm summer night like it was just yesterday, as if I had just written in my journal the words “I have to go, Matt Meehan is talking to me on the computer!” (yes, I actually did that).  I still have the sweatshirt from the football game…in fact, I wore it the other day, and I smile every time that I do.  That circle of friends that we formed in high school is the same circle of friends that surrounded us on our wedding day, and the same circle of friends that we welcome into our home as often as possible to this day.

My favorite person in the whole world is my husband, my best friend, my partner in life.  I love him for the shy, adorable sixteen year old that he was, and for the strong, confident man that he has become.  We have grown up together, we have shared some of the best days of my entire life, and the best part is the thought of how many more we will share.  How we will watch our children grow, how we will watch our love grow, how we will someday sit on rocking chairs on our front porch and drink lemonade.  I don’t have this story without him, I don’t have any story without him.  He has given me two (almost three) of the best gifts anyone can ever receive—he has made me a mother, a wife, and most importantly a better person.  He takes care of me, he works enough for two or three husbands and never complains, and yet he still finds time to stop and buy me my favorite candy bar on his way home from work.

If you are thinking this is sappy, you are right.  And if you are thinking that you should be jealous of me, you should be.  My life is not perfect, and we do have our ups and downs.  We argue, we yell, we disagree.  But then we hug, and we kiss, and we always go to bed in the same bed.  I love him more than I could ever say, no matter how long this blog goes on and on…

And so, as we “look for the good in people”, I pray that I never take for granted the friend  that I share my life with, my home with, my bed with.  He has given me a life that I love, children who have stolen my heart, and a love that everyone deserves to have in their life. 

This one is for you, Matt.

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