my husband's holy day, when timothy johnson was born, when everything began for me . . .

-

people rarely understand when i tell them 

that tim was not the man i asked for,

but rather,

the man i deserved.

-

i was twenty one when we met,

and i had a list of requirements,

things i "needed" in a man,

things i thought would keep me content.

-

as you can imagine, the list was not working out.

-

and tim was everything i did not think i wanted.

-

he is kind.

he is patient.

he is loyal.

he puts me, at times, before himself.

he is funny (ok,that was on the list)

but in a completely different way than i am.

he is right brained (BIG TIME)

whereas i am left,

yet he has the greatest sensitivity to color and space,

and the finest taste in design i have ever encountered.

-

i'm drifting.

-

today is his birthday,

the day he was born and somehow,

found his way out of that tiny michigan city

to chicago,

to a club called shelter,

to me.

-

and he saw through the long hair and the club kid,

and drove me around that snowy city in his big gray car,

and waited for me to settle into

understanding

of what love

could be.

-

larger than a list.

-

longer than my imagination.

-

enduring,

without reasons.

-

when he was put here,

i know it wasn't just for me.

-

-

it just feels like that.

-