My spouse, mi esposo, mio marito, mon mari, of just shy of forty years, is my friend, no matter the language.
In fact, we hardly need language to communicate to one another, which is handy as he isn't what one would call a
big talker. Unless, of course, he is recounting his golf shots he takes in the backyard, describing why the loft on his sand wedge is just what he had hoped or how a line of programming code is eluding him in the function he was hoping to achieve.
He loves to swing imaginary golf clubs everywhere,
everywhere. To his credit he has a beautiful swing. When we met, he had planned to be a golf pro. He chose another course, no pun in tended, as he felt it was a rough lifestyle for a family, and he wanted a family. He rarely plays on a real course, but his backyard has seen him hone his putting, sand wedge shots, and patience. I have never heard him complain at the lack of playing time, which considering his YouTube profile of golf videos, is exemplary.
His profession ended up in the Information Technology field, in other words, computers. This path has work out well, though it does keep him inside.
He is excellent at explaining things to small children, like the time he substituted for my Sunday school class,and successfully taught them all how to do bicycle hand signals. When you think about it, bicycle hand signals are great metaphor for life. One way or another it is always helpful to communicate just where you are headed, so those around you can anticipate your next move.
One of my favorite things about my husband is this: he is thoughtful. While this thoughtfulness plays out in interesting ways, it is in his tangible gifts, I find this the most delightful.
For my birthday one year, he gave me a power surge protector, when asked why, his response, "I thought you needed one for your computer." Always looking out for me. For my thirtieth birthday, a portable house phone, before the days of mobile phones. His logic? With four small children running around, it would make my like easier if I could take the phone with me, instead of leaving a child unattended. For Valentine's Day? An I-Pod. He thought it would be nice for me to have portable music when I walked off the baby weight after our fourth child. All of these examples show how quirky, kind, and dear he is to me.
His latest gift? A small boom box, which as I write, sits upon my desk, keeping me company. I had mentioned I wished I could listen to the old
WFMT Midnight Special programs we had taped in our youth off off the radio. We listened to this program on Saturday nights while we played with our first baby.
This small electronic wonder arrived several days after I had verbalized this desire. He has once again seduced my heart with electronics, and thoughtfulness.
