Day Three

I'll save you the drama right now and tell you that I'm going to be writing about my husband. Sure, there were two times in my life before Corey that I thought I loved someone, and without an abiding and universal definition of love I guess if you think it exists it does. However, in retrospect I was a naive child and a co-dependent mess at the times of these relationships and when love and respect exist without each other I have a hard time believing that the love part was ever there at all. Cryptic enough for you? Good, because I really have no desire to dredge up old crap. So let's move on.





When I first was introduced to Corey we were in a dirty dive bar and neither of us were remotely interested in the other. Apparently I was a big snob, and he was, well, he was drunk.

Four or so months later our mutual friends tried to set us up and I was reluctant. "He's too quiet," I told them. At that point I couldn't understand why they both laughed so hard their faces turned red.

We did eventually agree to a double date, and for the next few weeks Corey remained polite, quiet, reserved and respectful. The Air Force sent him to New Orleans for a month and we spent countless hours on the phone getting to know everything about each other. And then slowly, when he came back, the real Corey started to come out. The Hooters T-shirt emerged from his closet. His friends started eluding to this mischievous man who would run up and punch them in the face for no reason. He drove his huge, loud truck even faster and Hank Williams could be heard from the gates to my apartment. He told me he hated cheese plates and the symphony and shirts with collars.

The debutante in me was crushed, but it was far too late. I was gone. I sobbed on my desk at work one day that I was going to marry a hillbilly and my children would be walking around barefoot chewing straw. A bit dramatic to be sure, but he also would be lying if he said his ideal life partner was a snooty, red-wine sipping, John McCain volunteering, Yankee city girl.

Why he chose me I doubt I'll ever really know, but I can tell you that God plopped this goofy boy with bright blue eyes right in the middle of my life and derailed me from my tracks at a million miles an hour. We never deserve the blessings we are given, but I'm nothing if not eternally thankful for this one.

Corey is the most thoughtful, caring, and responsible man I've ever met or even heard about. When I was laid off a few weeks before our wedding he didn't even flinch. "I make enough to support us and you didn't need the stress of that job anyway."

I love that when I'm not looking he cuddles up with his smelly mutt on the couch and they snore in harmony. I love that he calls me from the golf course when he makes an amazing shot just because he wants me to share in his excitement. I love that he stood by my side every day that we were going through fertility treatments and never once made me feel like my body was letting him down.

I happen to think that your first love happens the first time you find real, true, uncomplicated adoration and you don't have to question whether or not it's right. You just close your eyes, hold on, and say prayers of thankfulness every second of the day.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world.