You're my wife

I often tell Denise that "you're my wife".  Until I explained it to her, she would just look at me with that expression that said "ummm, yes, I know this".  (Just to clarify, I did not have to explain to her that she is my wife, but explained what I meant when I told her that)

You need to understand the back story (I never had a back story before, but I just got one for Christmas).  I have been a single man since 1999.  Yes, since sometime in the last century.  I guess I was a bachelor (no, not the one on tv), but I did not consider myself one.  I figured that I would be married again sometime before too long, but after a decade or so passed, I began to think maybe I was wrong.  I think I was close once, but I did not have enough stamps to send in the mail order. After a while, I figured that singleness may be what God had called me to.  I began to think of myself as a tortured artist, alone, working on my art that no one would appreciate until after I was gone.  I felt a kinship with Vincent Van Gogh.  But I digress (always wanted to say that)

At the beginning of October, quite as a surprise to both of us, I met Denise on facebook.  Messaging led to texting, then to phone calls, skyping, then to our fairy tale romance, time together and our engagement.  

Then, late on the evening of December 23, Denise's plane landed at O'hare and we were together for good (with some exclusionary blackout periods).  We enjoyed our first Christmas together, and finally (after having to wait all 3 months), our wedding.  After that, we had our brief honeymoon in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin (state motto:  great, more people from Illinois coming to visit).

Now, things have settled into a routine for us, with my going to work each day, and our enjoying our time on the evenings and weekends.  

It is at these times that I will pause, look at Denise, and tell her "You're my wife".  This is not a possessive comment, a lording over her comment, or a new realization, but a statement made in awe. This lovely lady is my wife.  I realize how very fortunate I am, I see her love for me in so many things she does throughout the day.  I am humbled each time as she creates photo books for us, fixes up the house even more for us, decorates the place with photos we have taken, cooks delicious meals for us, prepares left overs for me for my lunches at work.  (if you don't think that is love, try eating the same things at lunch for work year after year).  If I have a headache, she applies lavender to help soothe it, she massages my shoulders, encourages me in my writing and photos.  Just this week, Denise joined me for taking photos at the youth theater and for a writers workshop.  I never have to ask for any of these things, she wants to be involved in the things that I am involved with, and wants to care for me.  

Denise retired from teaching and moved (like moving house moving) from Utah to St Charles IL.  Denise chose me to be her partner, to build a relationship with.  I am in awe of the partner I have found.  How is it that I, that bachelor, photographer, century long single man, have found this lovely woman?  And this is not simply a dating relationship, no, she has married me.  Committed her life and her future to me.  This is forever, as long as we both shall live stuff.  She is my biggest fan, my best friend.  

So, as I enjoy this new part of my life, day after day, I will look at her and comment "You're my wife".  And I will say it with awe in my voice and deep gratitude and appreciation.