this man of mine

The chart for the Gratitude Challenge tells me I’m supposed to write about Michael this week. That’s not hard at all. I love him deeply. He’s perfect for me. I’m thankful for him every day. Today just happens to be our son’s first birthday, though, so I have an especially potent reminder of how amazing Michael is. Here are two photos from a year ago today.  

  Our last non-parent selfie. 

The first photo I have of Michael holding Henry. 

Michael is a wonderful husband, a true partner, supportive and caring and funny and loving. And he’s the best dad I know. Neither of these are super great quality photos, and neither shows what I want to say, but they’re important to me. 

And all of a sudden, it seems, it is hard to write what Michael means to me, why I am so thankful for him. I could go on forever, but I think you’d still be in the dark. And now that I’m writing, some of what makes him so wonderful, what makes me so thankful, seems too precious, too tender and raw for writing. Maybe it’s just for me. And him. To say I couldn’t do this, any of this, without him, seems like hyperbole. It isn’t. Still, perhaps it’s truer and a bit kinder to myself to say I wouldn’t want to do any of this without him. 

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