Six days… it feels like an eternity already!
So because I’m missing him I want to share a little piece of who we are with you today. You simply can not be married to a man like Ryan and not have a dozen quirky little stories…
When I was in high school I was obsessed with poetry… for that matter I wrote my fair share of maudlin prose and even saw some of it published.
My favorite poem of all time was “How Do I Love Thee?” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.”
When Ryan and I were dating I discovered that he was not the kind to spout poetry and that was fine with me since I’d had my fill of broody men with poetic hearts. I was ready for something real… though I thought I would miss the poetry. When we married I found that poetry never really mattered…
In him I find a man who is solid and real. Who can make me laugh when I am brooding, who can make me giggle when no one else has ever managed it.
A man who puts up a fight when I feel like fighting, or who can be tender when I’m feeling raw and empty…
Who can still make my knees tremble with a simple kiss…
A man who decided that this poem I had loved my whole youth just did not quite say what it needed to say for us.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing about this poem of all things… You see I was searching the other day for a card to put in the care package I’m about to send him. I found one that has this poem in it and instead of causing those old teenage feelings of angst and passion to resurface it made me remember something that is just so trademark us.
I told him once how much I had loved that poem and he grinned his silly grin and grabbed my face in his hands.
He looked deep into my eyes and said,
“Courtney, How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!”
“One…” and he kissed my forehead.
“Two…” and he kissed my cheek.
“Three…” and he kissed my other cheek.
“Fooour…” big smootch on the lips… “EVER!”
The man may not have poetry in his soul but he knows just how to capture mine.
Hurry home my love…
P.S. Oh my… well I just got an email from Ryan letting me know he had read this post. This is his comment.
“By the way, I do too have poetry in my soul. Check this out: