A Spring of Joy

I love heroes. Superheroes. My brother and I grew up on them. Every Saturday morning we’d head down to the family room and curl up in front of Super Friends while Mom and Daddy enjoyed sleeping in. We’d get home from school and watch old Batman reruns on channel 5. Daddy (ever the artist!) would draw them for us, Mom would make capes and masks out of felt, and we’d play heroes every time we could. We played with our friends, most often with Sherry, my one-day-to-be sister-in-law. (Who knew those days climbing all over the jungle gym as Batman, Robin and Batgirl, we’d one day all be related?)

I married a man who also loves heroes. Superheroes. Over the years we have enjoyed watching Smallville sporadically. In the premiere of season 8, there was a moment that struck me, and yes, I cried. Jimmy Olsen was proposing (or rather backing out of his proposal because of a misunderstanding) to Chloe. She finally said to him, “Yes.” Noticing his confusion, she explained how during her captivity (because what super hero show is complete without someone being held captive?) she realized this:

“What I wanted in the past kept me from seeing what I have right now. And that’s you. You’re perfect.”

Jimmy replied, “I am so far from perfect.”

As she hugged him, Chloe whispered, “Which is perfect for me.”

All I could think about was my Brian, because, well, I think about him a LOT. And how he is so perfect for me. How despite all our imperfections and our failures and our struggles, his love never fails.

This past weekend, we were at a wedding at the Oakland Plantation in Leesburg. Brian’s bosses’ son married his childhood sweetheart. Bri and I have been to a lot of weddings. By a lot, I mean at least 7 a year since we got married 12 years ago… you can do the math. I have (with the exception of one other time… that’s you Josh and Kristin) never seen a groom so overcome with the thought of his bride. He was overwhelmed with anticipation, emotion, and love. It was gorgeous. As they faced each other and he vowed “in sickness and in health” to “cherish” her until the day that “death alone will part us,” all I could think about was my Brian. Again. (I think about him. A LOT. Well, you know, because I love him. A LOT.) I leaned in close under his arm and I felt his warmth pull me tight.

“That’s you.” I whispered to him through my tears.

He has not been a husband who has borne with me during these last months of trial. He has not detached himself from me to deal with his fears his own way. He has not given up on my emotional outbursts and insanities by walking away. He has not merely stood by my side faithfully. He has cherished me. He has treasured me. He has made it clear to me that I am his wife of value and I am precious to him no matter what I go through, no matter what I look like, no matter how often I fail him. He loves me.

And that is just one of the reasons why I think about him a LOT. Because, well, I love him a LOT, too.

He is the true hero in my life. And he is far from perfect. Which makes him perfect for me.