Part VI: A Relationship (Becomes Forever)

One could say that this is the sixth part in my finding and catching my man story. Or one might just call it an anniversary post. Actually, there are any number of things it could be called. The story begins here but if you're not up for six posts, the last one was here. I'm only saying this because some people actually do go back and read them all. I'm that kind of person, too.

I left my nannying position. I had made my peace with the family I was leaving behind, and if I felt unsure and a little sick about the new nanny I'd found for them, they didn't seem too concerned. I had to be okay with it, too. (I'm leaving that subject but I just have to say that a little while after we were married I talked to the sister of the nanny and asked how her sister was doing with little Ali. She told me, "Oh, she hates it. She says Ali is such a little bratt!" If I hadn't been full of the glow of newlyweddedness, I would have had a really hard time getting over that. Ali! A bratt!? Cutest, smartest, sweetest little Ali!?! Especially since a child's level of brattiness usually is a reflection of the kind of care they are getting.) When he dropped me off at the airport, the dad handed me an envelope and told me it was to help us get started in our new life together. It contained several hundred dollars. It reminded me somewhat of the muffin he'd offered early on in our coming to understand and forgive each other. Excellent closure there.

I arrived in Provo on December 13th, exactly one week before my wedding. I stayed at my old apartment with some old roommates and sometimes at the studio apartment Greg had found and rented for our first little home together. I remember very little about that week. I don't think I did any planning or anything; everything was taken care of and Greg was in the midst of finals.

I bought a very simple but elegant white dress that I would wear for my wedding and use as my temple dress thereafter. The night before the wedding I stayed with my family in a hotel in Salt Lake City while they did last minute planning of who would sit where during our wedding brunch.

In the morning I met Greg in the temple. He had washed his recommend and a few very early morning calls had to be placed to bishops and stake presidents, and then we were a go.

This was just the first of many, many sealings I would do in the temple in my life, but I was so very glad it was the first. Is not the sealing ceremony and the covenants made and blessing promised the most beautiful and glorious of all? I almost couldn't take it all in. I really felt as if my Father was there, making this as real as any heavenly visitation. Of course He was there. I was, afterall, making these covenants with Him as well as with my handsome groom.

We were married. We were happy. I was only slightly aware of the unusual way we were doing it. I didn't even wear my white dress outside the temple for pictures (it was too simple and would have looked silly, I think). I just wore a red velvet dress that I had worn as a bridesmaid a year or two before. I know, how wrong does that sound? But it wasn't wrong! We came out of the temple and my family and our friends were gathered there to greet us. It felt, again, like heaven. So many smiling faces of people I love, and the man at my side that will be there forever.

I really, really love and appreciate this man. It's amazing to think of how much we have grown. Moving away from my home and family, while not always easy for either of us, has brought us so close together and has really brought out the very best in him.

He is a great Pole. He is a patriot. He loves and fights for his country in his way every day. He is a hard worker, which I posted about long ago. He is a spiritual giant. He has such a passion for truth and knowledge. He loves his Heavenly Father and his Savior and he relies on the spirit for guidance. He is often overwhelmed with the grace of God.

He is handsome. He is smart. He is funny (understatement). And he is modest about these qualities. Put these together and you have the recipe for the perfect man! And that's just what he is!

He, like me, is slightly anti-social. Well, he's anti social, and I don't have a great need for a lot of social contact. Yes, that's a better way to put it. When he bought his glasses a few month ago, I was shocked that he would want to buy thick plastic frames (I loved them but I didn't think he'd ever wear them) He explained that he was hoping that now people would just look at him, see the glasses and figure he was an introvert and not try to talk to him. Nice! :) And it's funny that he's "anti-social", because he sort of beams in some social settings. For example, put him in a group of young single adults here in Poland, and he is the life of the party, without meaning to be. They look up to him, and I'm glad they do, because I hope they'll all become just like him. Or much like him, anyway. He is also like this at work. He is a wonderful manager.

He is a terrific dad. He loves to teach the kids interesting things. He shares his talents and interests with them, things they could never learn from me. He is hard on them when they need it. He is loving and sympathetic when they need that.

He is the best husband I could ever ask for. I just realized that the things he gives me a hard time about are things like not always keeping my keys in the same place all the time. Or not finishing my sentences or expressing myself clearly. Sometimes I think he is so unfair about these things. How funny. How very, very silly of me!

He forgives me my biggest, most obvious faults. He trusts me. He knows that I want to be a better person and lets me get on with that, without giving me a daily rundown of the things I keep doing wrong. How does he do that!?! How does he see me neglecting things that need to be attended to and just know that I am aware of them, and therefore resist the urge to call me out on them? He is merciful.

He is supportive. He has always told me I'm the best mother in the world. I'm sure husbands just say this, but he really means it, even though he's wrong. He has allowed me to raise the kids the way I see fit (with only a tiny bit of compromise) and has even adopted my methods and now swears by most of them. He makes me feel so empowered.

Because, as I mentioned, I don't need or desire a great deal of social contact, and because I am lazy and have not learned to speak Polish as quickly as I should have (and therefore have made few friends), and because we live far away from a church congregation, and because that congregation doesn't have any women that I can relate to anyway, and because, despite all the rest, I still like to talk a lot and give all sorts of detail, Greg gets dumped upon on a daily basis. He hears it all. Even when I do meet with friends and have great discussions, all that means is that he gets a play-by-play of the conversation (both sides), and not that he's spared a little of what I shared with those ladies.

He is my visiting and home teacher, my circle of friends, my family, my book group, and the Relief Society sisters that bring dinner when I really just cannot cook a meal tonight. He rarely tells me I'm beautiful but constantly compliments me on my mothering, cooking, and sense of humor, the things I actually care about.
He loves me.
And I love him.