Hey, it’s your wife. You might remember me, the one you’ve been married to for nearly 11 years? I’m the one who gets frustrated when you leave your huge shoes in the middle of the living room, or at the front door. Come on! I trip over those things.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who rolls my eyes at you and the water cup you leave near the kitchen sink. You and I both know it’s not going to be, “used later that day,” even though that’s the excuse you tell me every time.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who doesn’t have to pull morning duty with the kids, because you get up early to dress them and feed them and make sure they wear underwear and some kind of socks (not usually matching, but their feet stay warm) and get them out the door in time to grow their precious brains at school.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who hates laundry so much, I refuse to fold all the tiny jeans and shirts and undies that two little girls wear, or all the white shirts and socks you own, so you do it for all of us.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who calls you in the middle of the day for business advice, or assistance with my car, or a question about our finances, or a request to pick up the kids because I’m running late (again), or to get wine. Always, wine. And even though I call or ask or question often, you always help, without expecting anything in return.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who dislikes making dinner at the end of the day, and so you often do it, even though you’ve had a long day, too. I’m the one who doesn’t thank you enough for all your help around the house and with the kids. We make a good team.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one you sent flowers to last week, just to say you were proud of me. What a beautiful surprise to receive a knock on our front door from a floral company, (instead of a neighbor kid) with gorgeous flowers in hand. I smiled, placed the bouquet on my desk, read your note and started to sob. You remembered me. And I couldn’t recall the last time I remembered to thank you.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m the one who talked about your big shoes and your forgetful water cup at the beginning of this column. I tried to remember something else you do that bothers me. Certainly after 11 years of marriage I could think of something. But I can’t. I can’t remember a thing. I can’t remember, because you’re perfect to me.
Dear husband of mine, do you remember me? I’m your wife who loves you beyond measure. Sometimes it’s easy to forget in the crazy of the day to day routine, with a growing business and growing children and growing responsibilities, but I want you to know that I see you. I know what you do for our community, our family and for me. I know your dedication to our marriage is faithful and powerful and loving. I feel it every day. Today, yesterday and always I remember you. Thank you for remembering me, too.