Why I love my husband

Last Friday was a rough day, and it hit me with no warning. Even hurricanes give a little bit of a heads-up. I sat down to my computer in the morning, the last day in my regular position after having been laid off due to a corporate merger. Then it hit me. So I took a deep breath, thought to myself, "Oh, wow, ok. That's normal, I suppose." And moved on. Then I got an email from a soon-to-be-former customer telling me that she'll miss me, that I was great to work with, that sort of thing. After a couple more emails like that, I gave in to the tears.

Meanwhile, I have been job-hunting. There was one job that was with a Christian organization that I love, and I had three great interviews. I didn't get the job because of circumstances out of my control. I cried again. Then I sucked it up, took another deep breath (by this time I am well-oxygenated) and called Steve to let him know that this job was a no-go. He made the foolish decision to ask me how I was doing. Unfortunately, he heard my voice quiver when I answered, "I'm fine." (Why did I try to cover up my feelings and not tell him how I really was? Because the requisite pep talk to follow would have done me in, and I didn't want to open up the flood gates while he was at work.) He told me he loves me, that we would get through this together, and he'd see me later at home.

Flash back 2 months: I got the phone call that with this corporate merger, I would be "unassigned" (no job for me after Sept. 30). It was 9 am, and Steve was on his way to work half an hour away. After my phone call I called him and told him (we knew this phone call was coming, just didn't know the outcome). He turned around and drove home to hug me. It was 60 seconds that made all the difference. Then he went to work.

Back to last Friday. Around mid-afternoon, he came home! Two hours early, and with red wine and chocolate! I chatted up a storm with our usual every day banter, avoided eye contact, and scurried around the kitchen. Then he strided right through all those barriers (aka coping mechanisms) and hugged me. I cried some more, and he held me tighter.

That night, before I got ready for bed, I told him, "Today sucked." He knew I wasn't up for a pep talk. He answered, "Yeah. Today sucked." Good man.

Thank you, God, for my wonderful husband. He is just what I need.