Ten years ago today, Kevin proposed on the steps of the New York Public Library. He wanted to propose before the holidays; we were spending Thanksgiving with my parents and Christmas with his mother's large family.
Proposing in 2007. (Photo by his friend Jon, hiding in bushes.)
I said "Definitely!"
At the time, I thought I knew a lot about him. I knew he was very smart, cute, and super funny. I knew he was incredibly patient with me but still demanded respect. I knew he was an incredible son, brother, and friend. He'd helped take care of his mother when she had two kinds of cancer. He'd encouraged his friend to go back to college and finish his degree. I knew he wrote beautiful short stories. I knew he was a dedicated teacher, carefully reading all his students' terrible papers and giving them suggestion after suggestion to improve their writing. I had started noticing that his judgment was exceptional, and even if I sometimes hated to admit it, he was right almost all of the time.
I am happy here.
Super happy.
Thanksgiving dinner with my parents the next day.
But you know, we're all human, right? No one's perfect, right? I'm not even sure anymore, honestly. It's been ten years and I'm starting to wonder if I'm married to an actual saint. One year after we got married my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 kidney cancer. He went with me to all my dad's appointments and visits, and at least once went to an appointment without me. When my dad passed away exactly 3 years after he'd proposed, he comforted both me and my mother. He helped my mother so much after my dad passed away, doing a lot of the harder things my dad might have done for her.
When our son James was born while I was still mourning my father, he did half of everything even though he was working and I wasn't. Probably more than half. He got up half the nights, and then he started getting up with James in the morning. Every morning. He's only more incredible with two kids. Until James started taking showers, he gave almost all the baths. He makes lunches. He takes them to all their doctor's appointments. He still gets up every morning with them.
James at about 5 months old. Bottles everywhere.
Typical.
Then my mom got kidney cancer, and he was exceptionally helpful and patient with both her and me for the 4 years of her illness. At the end, he welcomed her into our home even though she was definitely suffering from some end-of-life dementia. One morning, when he had an important meeting at his job, she accidentally stole his glasses and hid them in her bed. We tore through the house looking for them and found them just seconds before he had to go. He didn't even complain about it. He called later in the day and asked, "Your mom isn't upset about it, is she? Tell her not to be if she is." When my mother got upset with me, Kevin sat in her room and let her vent, listened to her, and then tried to say things to make her feel better and make it easier for us to get along. When she got so sick she couldn't move, he physically helped me lift her because I couldn't do it alone. When I moved her to hospice, he took care of our entire schedule (with the help of our wonderful neighbors, friends, and family) so that I could be with her day and night.
At the same time, things at his job were harder than ever, and he was quietly finding work and health insurance for a lot of people that were about to lose it. He was staying up late to make sure all his students were still getting thoughtful comments on all their writing.
He wasn't just saying nice things and comforting family, friends, coworkers, and students, though he did that too, he was constantly giving real help to everyone. I don't think everyone notices, or they do, but they don't understand the entirety of it. Maybe people don't fully understand because Kevin doesn't complain and he doesn't self-aggrandize. But I've been carefully observing him for 11 years, and I really think he's a rare gift.
I am so thankful for this amazing person that makes everyone's life he touches better.
