Let's BLOG 'You See, I See'

 You see a man.

I see a boy.  A boy of seventeen.  In a baseball cap standing by a chain-linked fence after the championship game asking me for a date.  

I see a boy of poems.  Passed in the hallways between classes.  A former artist like Prince and a matchmaker of words.  

I see a boy who put himself through college.  Three years of every weekend working and between classes coaching.  Work study.  More money owed in loans than credits.  And  yet that boy  picked up that telephone each and every night, long distance just to hear my voice.  The same boy that rode that old blue Ford pickup through the valley of Franconia, wind and snow, ice and rain, to share with me what minutes he had and everything in between.

You see a groom.

I see a husband.  Who once he had to leave college with no money left to spare to work full-time, overtime, anytime, just to find me an engagement ring.  Walked right in that jeweler with a down payment and every week since giving all his tips just to put that diamond on my hand.

I see a husband that met me in front of the altar.  In front of all our family and friends, too numerous to count and promised his love to me.   But what they didn’t know was that kind of love had already been promised at that chain-linked fence just a short time ago.  

I see a husband in a one room apartment.   Posing that nine to five job just to make rent.  All along his bride knew he was meant to be an artist not a man of sales and marketing. But a maker of films, a creator of scripts.  Still he wore that suit and tie one hour there and one hour back so he could make me a husband.

You see a guy.

I see a friend.  A best friend.   A friend that sees when I hurt and wants to make me laugh.  A friend that recognizes when I'm empty and fills me with courage.

I see a friend that never held me back but pushed me forward.  As hard as it ever was and could be, reminded me of my strength, not just as a girl but as a person.  I see a friend that supported my talents.  Sometimes the only friend in the crowd, sitting in a gym, sitting by a stage.  A friend that knew when I needed applause and knew when I needed a listening as long as it took to listen and everything in between.

You see a dad.

I see a father.  Not just any father though.  More than a father.  One that changed shifts from day to night so those baby girls never had to spend one moment in someone else’s care but our own.  He’d work the night, I’d teach the day, and he cared for those babies all day with no sleep til I got home. Fed them, changed them, nurtured them.  He grew weary, especially with two and yet he was the same father that wrote them poems.  Sang to them, shared stories with them, made a life for them.  And he waited. Waited the day long for me to arrive home so he could find himself some sleep.  Only to wake up once more and work the night, raise those babies by day.

I see a father that drove a toddler to preschool, then kindergarten, finally first grade and on.  Did the same for the second daughter.  And met them each day for pickup or at a bus stop.  Not once ever calling in sick.  No personal leave.  No vacation.  Just work by night and daddy daycare by day for years on end.

You see a man.   

I see a savior.  A savior of a mother and a father.  Finding us a home between the two, close enough and in between so he could care for them in their old age.  A savior that opened his home to his ailing father so he could rest easy knowing his son and family were right there inside. A savior that uses what little time off he has to bring his mother to appointments and listen like a friend when it comes time for the need.

I see a savior that granted me everything a girl wished for.  A home, a family, a career.    A savior of little girl moments.  Spent always at home with a mommy or a daddy, not in the hands of strangers or time spent in shuttles back and forth in the early mornings, in the snow, in the wind, or rain.  A savior that with all his efforts, has sacrificed his own health, his own dreams, his own life to care for not just one girl by a chain-linked fence but two beautiful daughters.  

You see a man.   A groom.  A guy. A dad.  A man.

I see my history.  My future.  And everything in between.