I Got A Gift For Her Birthday

My wife recently turned sixty-something, and I didn’t get her a birthday gift. Yes, I know, that’s a capital offense—or worse—but she doesn’t have a punitive bone in her body. That doesn’t make me innocent, but it does make her awesome.

She loves babies, critters, siblings, and neighbors, not necessarily in that order, but also loves the Lord, her husband, her children, and herself. That part is in order. She also loves writing, signing, walking, and origami. I’m not sure what that is, exactly, but it does take a lot of folding money.

She speaks softly, listens intently, laughs heartily, and cries in places I’m not allowed. The epitome of a Proverbs 31 woman, she prays earnestly, saves judiciously, works effectively, and gives generously. In the words of today’s militant feminism, she knows when to step up, shut up, stand up, and speak up.

This woman of God strives tirelessly for the peace, profit, health, and happiness of her household. Throughout every day she remains upbeat, positive, encouraging, and compassionate. She is a credit to her marriage, family, church, and community.

I’ve never seen her angry, impatient, depressed or discouraged. I’ve never heard her express fear, doubt, resignation, or a tantrum. She’s never even told an off color joke. She does joke about being rich and obscure, though, and she’s halfway there already.

She is a picture of unbridled empathy, unshackled joy, and insatiable curiosity. Google is even the first letter in her alphabet. She diligently practices personal care, proper etiquette, and was an environmental wacko before it was fashionable.

She claims to be a home-body, and does a remarkable job on our half-acre of paradise, but also home-schooled her 11 year-old boy while walking the entire Appalachian trail. It may have left a mark on the young man, because he’s a happily married Naval officer with a lovely family of his own.

My wife never cusses, doesn’t drink, and wouldn’t smoke, but she’s a lot of fun anyway. She has a great sense of timing, quirky kind of humor, and even laughs when I tell a bad pun, again. How could I not fall in love with all that?

But wait. She’s not perfect. She’s not even all that smart sometimes. She learned The Meaning Of Life in college, but forgot to write it down. I asked her once to define apathy, but she didn’t know, and didn’t care.

Not a morning person, and openly skeptical of anyone who is, she wakes up late most days convinced God should have put sunrise in the middle of the day. Hopelessly tangled in multiple blankets, often wearing one of my shirts tucked into mismatched pajamas, her hair is tossed about like a wind tunnel test.

But by 9:00 AM or coffee, whichever comes first, the lady of the house is in charge of the house. She brings a sense of order and level of propriety to breakfast normally reserved for a 5-star restaurant. It never ceases to amaze me, and I always try to appreciate her hard work.

She takes her marriage vows more seriously than anyone I’ve ever met, yet the lady is funnier than anybody I’ve known. But I also know there is no such thing as a perfect marriage. She could walk out, and if she does, then I’m going with her.

The truth is, I love her more than cheeseburgers, fast trucks, and free Wi-Fi. So yes, I got a gift for her birthday, and it was her!

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