Today is my husband’s 28th birthday.
We went to Biscoe this weekend to celebrate with his family (and eat some incredibly delicious hot fudge cake, but that’s a side note…) It’s only the second time we’ve visited his hometown since we began recovery. We were greeted at Sunday morning services with firm embraces and wide eyes of sincere happiness. From my very first encounter with this little town, when all they knew of me was that I was “Mitchell’s girlfriend,” they accepted me as one of their own. (My easy inclusion, I’m sure, is attributed to the confidence they have in the youngest Nail boy.)
For some reason, it always happens that I am exceptionally enamored with M after we’ve visited his hometown. I’ve tried to figure out what does this, and I think I’m beginning to put the pieces together…
The Biscoe I know is a classic small town: beautifully generous people that exist and thrive between the fields and the church house. Life is simple. Relationships matter. If what I’ve encountered is any indication, Mitchell grew up surrounded by hard work and affirmation. It shows in him now, when we return to this place that has shaped him, and he glows. I see his confidence level sky-rocket. He relaxes in conversations with his grandparents, beams in solid handshakes with family friends, and can strike up a steady farm conversation with anyone that cares to talk.
I love seeing this in him when we visit. I love hearing stories of his childhood and sharing laughter as a result.
I love that, because he has been affirmed and supported, he is completely free, completely himself. There are no stresses of “adulthood.” He can be silly, let go. Facets of his personality that I love, but are only partially exposed in day-to-day ebb and flow, flourish.
I love watching him interact with his mother. (I read somewhere once that, if you want to know if your man will treat you well, watch how he treats his mother. I got a winner.) He’s gentle, but affectionate. He shakes his head and smiles at her silliness, but is obviously proud of her. He delves into farm and sports talk with his dad with such excitement, it makes me wish I could keep up. (I’m a small town girl too, but they’re way over my head…)
So, why do I come home from Biscoe with butterflies?
Because – a short visit will remind me of all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place.
I get to be reminded that I married the one man in this world that is most perfect for me.
What makes him perfect? And perfect for me? Well, just his…
- ability to engage in intelligent conversation
- witty quips
- quirky faces
- ability to surprise me (When we were dating, this was one of the first indicators that he may be sticking around a while. I’m not surprised easily…)
- genuine enjoyment of my appearance
- constant encouragement to me
- honest assessment of my abilities, and gentle nudges/assistance to be better
- knack for making me comfortable enough to sing as loud as I want to
- love of absorbing nature (I need someone that will play outside with me.)
- talent for lifting me up when I’m critical of myself
- role in helping create our unified life dream, being one flesh
- constant support of whatever endeavors I devise
- logical evaluation of my ramblings/impulsive ideas
- nerdy interests
- writing ability
So, my husband, happy 28 years of life.
The days God has given you have formed my dearest friend and my deepest love. You are one of integrity, ambition, passion, and zeal. And, as with any birthday suit…
…it looks good on you. 😉