The Man I Love

by Lauren Kay Weber

The Man I Love

So, truly, I 99.875% of the time have a zero tolerance policy on lovey-dovey posts on Facebook.  I feel like people overshare like crazy sauce on Facebook… like there’s a system error between spinal cord and fingertips and they feel like they can just blurt out anything they want.  Why no, I think, I don’t want to know about your [fill in the crazy here] and Yes, I see that your relationship status says “Married.”  I’m going to let you have your pillow talk in the bedroom and not on my newfeed.  Cynical?  Perhaps.  True?  Absolutely.

So, why this post, you may ask.  Well, first of all, this ain’t Facebook.  Not even close.  This is my family journal, displayed, quite graciously, for your voyeuristic pleasure.  Secondly, my husband, the Josh Weber himself, does a lot of good in this world and gets very little recognition for it.  Nor does he demand it.  And I think it’s high time someone puts out publicly in this great big wide world just exactly why he is absolutely fantastic.

You see, this man has been down a lot of paths that have been bordered with the thorny bushes of adversity – and, in some ways, he still is walking a couple of those paths.  We all have briars whose pricks help make us who we are – and who we’re supposed to become – but, having seen this man’s so intimately makes me respect and admire him so much more.  I really think that there’s something bonding in two people trusting one another enough to show the other the hurts that we know to be idiosyncratic to us and trust that the other one won’t say, Oh, yeah?  That’s nothing.  See this scar?  Now that hurt.

More than his hurts, though, this man is truly incandescent.  So many times, he doesn’t see it, mainly because this world around us seems to refuse to acknowledge it.  Did you know he’s an amazing, soulful, thoughtful writer?  Did you know how funny he is?  That he could quote for you, on the spot, sans iPhone, the gross profit of just about any movie since the 1990s?  That he studies Hebrew… and rocks at it?  Huh?  Did ya?

He is a wonderful husband.  He takes seriously my needs and wants and whims, even.  He protects me and our family.  He joyfully – and laughingly – deals with the gross and unfortunate parts of pregnancy.  He laughs off my unexpected burps (I swear it’s because the baby kicked me in the diaphragm!) and holds me when my hormones drive me to tears.  Yesterday, he even snuck away and cleaned all the dirty things in the apartment while I took a nap.  What a man.

And on top of all of this, as if there could be more, he’s a dreamer.  His dreams are so lofty, and yet – for him – so attainable.  He ranges in passion from podcasting to writing to film to translating to teaching to… there’s so much more.  Sometimes I look at him and wonder how there’s enough room for so many ambitions.  And yet, it’s effortless.  His only struggle is trying to narrow down the field of options.

In short, the man is gold.  And he has elected to be mine.  How lucky am I?

[Okay, sappy post over and out.]