STEADFAST

Steadfast Definition

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adj. adjective

1. Fixed or unchanging; steady.
2. Firmly loyal or constant; unswerving.

My go-to description of my husband is that he is steadfast. Sometimes, I feel bad that this is how I describe him. I mean it as the highest of all compliments, but the word itself sounds boring and sans flair.  It is within its meaning that I find love every day and, admittedly, a soupçon of envy-I wish that I was more steadfast. I try, but to paraphrase that old saying -the only thing consistent about me is my inconsistency.

Because Steadfast Husband is so steady, he allows me to close my eyes waiting for the "all clear" while he assesses a situation. This has pretty much been the way it's been since we met. He encourages me to stand on a chair/sofa/table until he catches the wayward lizard, spider, bug, fuzzy hairball (that I swear was smirking at me as it crept across the floor), he vets moppet injuries and describes them to me allowing me to decide if I am brave enough to take a peek, (we laugh/cringe that I was a science major with an eye on medical school when we met in college) and pretty much "allows" me to completely over-react to any and all situations while he remains...well, steadfast.

He is also the best gift giver in the world (and I am not just saying this because our anniversary is coming up and I'm trying to solicit a good gift!) When the occasion calls for a gift, he puts so much thought and effort into getting the recipient something they will treasure. He also has a file folder in his brain labeled "gifts" or "what someone said they liked once which will make a good gift sometime". I must admit that a person has to be very careful about what they say they like in front of him. It took me 20 years to realize that I should say, "I like it, but I don't want it" or I am likely to find it presented to me, wrapped with a bow. Or comment with precision, "I like the lines of that chair, but the color is hideous and I don't want one-or anything in that color. Ever." It runs in his family, my in-laws are very thoughtful gift-givers as well. For Christmas one year, my father-in-law picked out a vase for me because it had my sorority flowers painted on it. My mother-in-law never makes you feel like buying you a gift is on her "to do" list and she was just trying to get it checked off. It makes a person feel very special and celebrated. He has also passed it on to the moppets, which is awesome! (I am working on this too, but I think perhaps my procrastinating nature serves as a bit of a roadblock!)

One of my favorite things about him is that he does not judge others, not about "big" things or small (I honestly can't even get him to "dish" after a party about the person who walked around unaware of the pickled yam stuck to their face -it's a little annoying, but mostly sweet). He also loves unconditionally-not necessarily easily, but once he does love someone, it's without condition.

So when I say he is steadfast, these are the things I mean. But I've decided to spice it up a bit and next time someone asked me to describe my husband, I'm going to say he's steadfast... and hot! (and I hope that the moppets are within earshot because their embarrassment=priceless!)

Hidden Treasure

The other night the moppets suggested that we watch home movies. I've got to be honest, watching hours of recorded school projects, Steadfast Husband telling everyone to, "Say, 'Hi'," and various moppets' firsts* is not my favorite thing to do.  But the other night watching reenacted memories just felt right. So when they asked, I agree, née encouraged the home video bender to commence. (*To be clear, we have never caught an actual first on camera, but have done an awesomely mediocre job of enthusiastically recording recreated firsts).

At The Cottage, watching home movies is quite an ordeal and truly requires perseverance. We still haven't converted our VHS tapes to DVDs and our VCR is 138 years old...so after 45 minutes of finagling (by Steadfast Husband), hundreds of queries of "is it ready, yet?" (by the moppets), lots of unsolicited advice "just hit play!" (also the moppets) and endless heckling (by me- I believe in the motivational powers of heckling), Fall of 2004 came to life in full blurry black and white.

Snippets of Oldest Son, at age 13, skateboarding, Oldest Daughter, then 10, doing an interview-style book review, with her 7 year-old sister serving as the hard-hitting interviewer and middle and youngest sons showing true brotherly love as only a 4 year-old and 2 year-old can- hugging each other- with the acumen of professional wrestlers, with huge teeth-gritting smiles on their little faces, (there may have been some mooning as well, but I don't want to embarrass anyone).

I must admit to losing interest- a little (and by a little, I mean just a smidgen shy of completely), and was weighing my desire to flee with my lack of desire to move, when the sound of my nasally narrative roused me from my debate. "Okay, let me finish changing him, then you can hold him," I heard. I looked up at the screen to discover the most precious treasure ever! Crackling video footage of sweet baby Hart, he was lying on a blanket on the floor and I was zipping up his romper. I had never seen this footage before! I felt like one of those people who discovers an original Picasso hidden behind a painting of a leprechaun.

Watching the video, it is clear that we were aware that it was being filmed, but none of us had any memory of it, nor could anyone recall ever watching it. We all sat there and watched in silent awe. It was so amazing. And beautiful. And mundane-a diaper change, youngest son patiently waiting, then holding his baby brother-which held his interest for exactly 17 seconds, after which he scooted out from underneath our tandem baby holding fun and started climbing on the furniture. The beauty of the moment was in its complete ordinariness.

“I've seen and met angels wearing the disguise of ordinary people living ordinary lives”
                                                                                                                    -Tracy Chapman

It was the best feeling ever! Like that one perfectly magical Christmas morning that you experience once (even if it only exists in rewritten memories) and hold as the standard for every Christmas morning after!

I might still be sitting there now, lost in my reverie if I wasn't olfactively snapped out of it twenty minutes later when one of our adorable dogs had a smack-down with a skunk.

In my heart it still feels like Christmas morning! (Like an old-fashioned Christmas morning 'round the rendering plant, but Christmas morning all the same!)