World's Best Husband (A Sunday Blessing)

It occurred to me, I never seem to write about Randy.

in about 9 days, Randy and I will have been married for two years. We have known each other since the mid 1990s -- we met at an AEJMC meeting, don't know which one exactly.

But I do know when we became friends: The weekend of the MC&S midwinter meeting April 1-3, 1998, in Tampa. We had an hour long conversation on a bus and I realized that we were "of the same mind" about so many things. He and I were sitting across the aisle from each other on the bus. My ex and Jeffrey were in the row in front of me. Go figure.

What some of you don't know is we don't live in the same city through the year. Randy teaches and lives in Tampa, and I teach and live here. We visit. A lot. Sure it's tough. But we haven't known any other life as a couple, and we live for the time when we can be in the same city in the same house full time. Whenever and wherever that is.

So what do you need to know about Randy, the love of my life? Like me, he loves good food, eating in wonderful restaurants, travel, disco music (and The Manhattan Transfer), and real humor. We love many of the same movies and many of the same shows.

He is a loyal friend like no one I know. He had high school friends who came to our wedding -- I'm not even in touch with anyone I went to high school with right now. He's the kind of guy who "keeps in touch". He's also loyal to his family. And now he's added my family.

He's smart. I'd imagine MENSA level high smart. MUCH smarter than I am, really. He can do the Times Sunday Crossword with an ink pen. Sometimes he makes me feel really dumb, but he keeps me on my toes.

He loves sports and knows more about sports than just about any man alive. I swear I think he could Stump the Schwab! He's loyal to his teams (I can't watch a USF football game with him when they're losing -- I'm afraid for my dishes when they do something stupid). He loves all sports except NASCAR, and he admits he tolerates it because of me and especially Jeffrey.

Since I got out of the hospital last Monday, Randy has been here trying to take care of me. I say trying because I'm not an easy person to take care of when I'm sick. I'm grumpy. I'm picky. On Monday, he fielded (and made) all the phone calls with the good news from the surgery -- no cancer. I know he was scared as I was, but he held it in and didn't say anything except positive thoughts. And he e has been here all week, bored out of his skull, taking Jeffrey to work and picking him up, and running to the store for me to get this pill or that juice. He's had to fend for himself on meals (I'm not cooking for obvious reasons and we've eaten up all the food my students brought Wednesday and that I cooked last weekend). He picked up after himself, he put the toilet seat down all week (YAY) and he didn't complain to me about how bored he was a single time. He has also dealt with the fact that I'm in instant menopause because of the surgery, so the hormonal moments and hot flashes and insomnia is already starting. I'll be on HRT by Thanksgiving, honey, I hope.

Jeffrey said the other day, aren't we lucky we have Randy? I said yes. Yes we are lucky. And blessed.

He's been here in case I needed him. All week. All the time. No matter how bored he was. And this isn't the first time -- this is the third operation I've had since we've been married and fourth since we' started dating. (It has been a tough couple of years). And he's been here for me through all of them.

About all I've ever said here on this blog about Randy is how lucky I am. Well, now I think you know why I'm so lucky.

I love you Randy. Thanks for being all mine. Thanks for taking good care of me. Just thanks.

G