Dear Mike,

Remember that time when you brought the starving and freezing kitten home? The one you’d found abandoned on your dad’s farm? I love you for being someone who couldn’t bare to let a little wild kitten freeze. Only, I didn’t act very much like I loved you that night, did I? As I recall while you tried to persuade it to have a little milk and to warm its frozen little body by the fire, I was pettily complaining and grumpy and angry because I’d always said I didn’t want indoor pets and you had your outdoor pets, and clearly this was your way of spiting me and showing me my feelings didn’t matter. Never mind that you tried to tell me you didn’t intend for us to keep it necessarily, you just couldn’t very well leave it out there to die. And never mind that I wouldn’t have truly wanted you to do that. I still went to bed grumpy and with out talking to you – something I had never done in our marriage before.

Do you remember how, to appease your cold and unreasonable wife, you put it in our car port in a little crate with blankets and with food nearby before leaving for work the next morning – only to have the wild and terrified thing bolt into the snowy hills – never to return -- likely placing itself back in the reaches of the same sad little death you had just rescued it from?

I remember. I felt horribly guilty and sick inside. Of course I hadn’t actually wanted any harm to come to the little creature. Plus, now I knew that my cover was blown – that you now saw me for what I was – not the fun, positive girl you thought you’d married, but a mean, irrational woman. One who was heartless to boot. I knew you were mad at me and wouldn’t be calling me at lunch time like you always did. Who knew when you’d EVER want ANYTHING to do with me again. I knew I was the one who needed to apologize but somehow was feeling far too proud to do it.

Only, instead of treating me like I undoubtedly deserved, remember what you did? You sent me flowers in the middle of the day with a simple note telling me you loved me (and kindly not mentioning anything about the helpless kitten I’d just doomed). I still feel badly about that poor kitten. But, I will never forget getting those flowers and calling you crying because I hadn’t realized that I had a husband who wasn’t just in love with the “perfect” girl he’d thought he was marrying, but also the very imperfect girl that he’d actually married.

I am missing you quite a lot tonight in our quiet house. It is only the third night here with out you, which should be no big deal as we have spent weeks and weeks apart in our marriage, but never have I been completely unable to access you. Always I’ve gotten to end my day with hearing your voice – getting a recap of your day and being able to tell you the small details I’ve saved up all day to share with you. The things that would mean very little to anyone else but you because they are the simple goings on of our small family.

I came across this little picture last night:

It made me smile and laugh. It was taken a few months ago after we’d taken the kids on a little family walk for family night and then let them have microwave dinners. I’m sure I hadn’t been big on having a “Kid Cuisine” but I don’t recall exactly how I ended up getting a special meal of chicken and corn made by you instead. . . . Or how I could be lucky enough to have you so romantically spell out “I love you” in corn.

I love you so much. I love you enough to spell it out not just in corn kernels, but maybe even in entire COBS of corn! That’s a lot of corn to eat though. Maybe chocolate covered cinnamon bears would express it as well? It was a very lucky day when I agreed to have a college pal set me up with her cousin . . . and even luckier that you happened to go along as her date . . . but luckiest of all that you felt fine about calling the girl who hadn’t even been your date the next day.

Love,

Nancy