Why I love my husband...

I am inspired today to share with you some of the reasons that I love my husband, Joe. It is a rainy Sunday, and we are coming down off of a busy weekend, which we shared with my sister-in-law, Teri. Teri took the train from Philly to be with us, and was a stellar saleswoman in our annual yard sale. (Our yard sale is a clearing out ritual for us.)
Ah, so deep breath as I relax into the beginning of a new week (why do they call it the week-end??) and listen to Amelia playing in her crib upstairs and Joe laughing at the Saturday Night Live spoof skit about Hillary and Sarah Palin. And this is why I love my Joe...
He has these deep, beautiful blue (oft greenish) eyes that penetrate my being. When he really wants my attention, he gently puts his hands on both cheeks, moves his face to close to mine, and stares into my eyes before posing his question... "what do you need from me today, love?", or "what do you need to take care of yourself?", or "what do you want for dinner?" Just now, as I typed that last question, Joe came over and put his chin on the top of my laptop screen, smiled, and asked me, "whatcha doin', honey? Blogging?" So sweet.
Over the very best burger EVER (Mr. Bartley's in Harvard Square) yesterday, I shared with Teri that I am filled with love for Joe when I watch him explain something to someone. You see, this gentleness comes over him, and he breaks down his knowledge, insight or perspective into small bits and then lovingly feeds them to his listener. His knowledge, his giving of knowledge, is nourishment.
My sister once commented that he is one of those incredibly intelligent persons, who you would never know is so intelligent. It's a complement, really. He is down-to-earth. He has social awareness, as Teri put it. He has a sweet heart, as I put it.
This morning, after coffee and breakfast, we proceeded on separate errands. He to the hectic Babies-R-Us with Amelia for some safety gates, and I to the local Whole Foods for some groceries. "Did you remember to buy water?" he asked me as he entered the kitchen. "Yes, of course." I replied. "You are the best." He responded. I smiled. "No, really, Erin. You are the best." he said again, softly, and looking into my eyes. And my smile got bigger. "Thank you, Joe." It seems the feeling is mutual then.