Thirty-eight

It’s a typical Monday for most of you, but for us, today marks another year around the sun for the man that keeps our world in motion. Today, I want to celebrate my husband turning thirty-eight.

Thirty-eight is one of those blah years. You know them, right? The years where you are lucky to get a happy birthday in passing and you don’t get a decade party. Its cool you are still here, but not quite cool enough for anyone other than your immediate family to really care.

Well, I’m here for all the magic that 38 deserves. My husband deserves that magic because he makes sure we have access to pass it around all year. Magic is light, love, and hope.

In contemplating a gift, I struggled. The banker man will undoubtedly worry about the bottom line on whatever I purchase and well, I’m not an artist or overly crafty person. So, I did what any good suburban wife would. I ordered him his first pair of Lululemon pants and a red velvet cake. Those pants are nice y’all. Really nice, but something still felt ‘off.’

It just didn’t feel special. Didn’t feel magical and dammit he deserves magical. So, the following is me making my own magic for him the best way that I can…through my words.

Clint,

Happy 38th Birthday! This morning, you woke up to our version of celebrating you—not letting your feet hit the floor before ours. This life that we have made together has been my greatest blessing.

Looking back, I often wonder about that lost 23 year old girl and what happened to her. I have reflected on what changed her. I wonder what gave her the courage to pursue her hopes and dreams. I ask what gave her the confidence to raise three children and undoubtedly the answer to these question is that YOU happened to her.

You walked in with that button down, boots, and bald head and turned my world upside down.

You have challenged me at every turn. You have encouraged me. You have silently given me the strength I didn’t know I needed. I still vividly remember when we began dating and I told you that if you wanted your own children that you better find someone else. You saw my fear and brokenness and never ran away from the work that I needed. You came to counseling with me. You handed me tissue when I cried. You advocated for me when I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself. You made me feel safe. And gosh, I’ve never felt more safe in my life.

Your love is constant and unconditional, but mostly, it’s genuine. You never make promises that you cannot keep and you always show up—you don’t miss a soccer game, a trunk or treat, doctors appointment, or chance at meeting Ian Somerhalder.

Your consistent presence and dedication to each one of us is what makes you special. You love us passionately and you care deeply about seeing us succeed individually and as a family.

But even more importantly, you work the hardest at getting us to heaven. On Sunday mornings when the easy choice would be to sleep in after a long night of nursing, you ensure we all get out that door to mass. You remind us to go to confession. You make sure we are filling our treasure chest with eternal graces.

At night, I watch you pray your rosary to go to sleep. I watch you rock our boys. I see you take Ellen to school early so I can get 30 more minutes in bed. I see that extra hot cup of Joe that you don’t even drink. I see that choice to have lunch with me or check in on me midday. I see when you choose yellow cake with chocolate icing on your birthday because you know it’s my favorite. I see every time you choose to drive so I don’t have to do it. I see the “no’s” you are willing to say so I don’t have to be the bad guy. I see it all and sometimes I forget to share just how grateful I am.

Of the 38 years, I’ve only had eleven of them with you. You have lived more life without me than with me. Selfishly, this makes me sad because I’ll never know baby Clint, toddler Clint, or teenage Clint. I bet he was great. I bet he was kind. I bet he was a good friend. But, then I remember that I get the best of you. I get you as a best friend, husband, and loving father. I get to know the absolute best version of you forever. I pray that God grants us the time to reverse that ratio and that one day I can look at you and say that we have lived more time together than apart.

You are the first person I pray for everyday and today is no different. Here is my simple prayer for you:

Heavenly Father,

Fill my husband with the strength, wisdom, and courage to lead our family to you in all that we do. Please protect him and keep him safe. Please fill him with the fire of the Holy Spirit and the gentleness of Joseph. Amen.

So, here’s to 38! Here’s to my best friend and the best dada. May you feel deeply cherished today and always.

With all my love,

Des