This guy…is going to be annoyed with me when he sees these photos…

It’s his own fault, of course, because he found this cool app that scans old photos very easily using a smartphone. Which means you all get to see what a hottie he was at nineteen…

I can’t tell you how well he looks after me. Or how grateful I am that he’s still in my life 35 years after we met, and that occasionally, he looks at me like this…

…and this…

As some of you already know, he’s had a rough time health-wise these past few years. Please don’t ask about it, as it’s not really my story to tell. But sometimes watching him in pain overwhelms me. I remember asking him years ago, in a weak moment, why so much stuff was happening to our family. Just as we were coming up for air after Small Man’s cancer and other health issues, Pete’s illness pulled us back under again.
My zen, philosophical husband was genuinely puzzled by the question.
“Babe, I think we’re very lucky. Our lives are perfect..” he said.
“You and I are closer than we’ve ever been, our sons love us and are still at home and want to spend time with us. We have a place to live, good friends and food to eat. What more could you ask for?”
I cried and cried, because he was, as always, completely right.
And I remembered that this was what I’d fallen madly in love with. It wasn’t just that he looked like a rock star at nineteen, or wielded a razor sharp wit that made me laugh and cry at the same time. It was his incredible mental discipline that appealed to my scattered, anxious, melodramatic nature. His strength under fire, his almost unfailingly positive outlook on the world, and his willingness to accept whatever life throws our way.
Over the years, we’ve faced our fair share of adversity together. I frequently quote that line from the final episode of M.A.S.H. where BJ tells Hawkeye…”I can’t imagine what this place would have been like if I hadn’t found you here”. Because whenever things have become too big for me to deal with, Pete has always been there. He was the one who held our screaming baby down inside nuclear imaging machines; he was the one who sat with my dad in hospital when Mum and I couldn’t cope anymore.
Then there’s this photo…

Big Boy was only six months old at the time and Pete was completely smitten. He used to come home from work at 7pm every night and wake him up to play – it drove me mental, but how could I say no? He’d missed a whole day’s worth of father-son time.
I’ve never known any boys to adore their father as much as mine do. They don’t actually need to say anything, because they’ve both tried so hard to be him. Which is great for me, because it means that they treat me as Pete does, with gentle teasing and great affection. And as you can see from the pic below, I appear to be nothing more than a cloning chamber…

So as I sit here, looking at all the old photos we’ve been scanning, I keep asking myself… how did this great and amazing thing happen? How did I meet this gorgeous man at eighteen, get to spend a lifetime with him, and still be completely besotted with him all these years later? It had to have been a miracle. ♥
. . . . .
Westley: Hear this now: I will always come for you.
Buttercup: But how can you be sure?
Westley: This is true love, you think this happens every day?The Princess Bride, 1987

































