My husband’s eyes have been sad for a year.
He goes about his life. Does his job extremely well. Raises our daughters with me. Helps with school drop offs and dinners.
He teaches our eldest chess and reads books to our girls at night.
He takes care of himself. He goes to the gym. He meditates regularly. He listens to inspiring books on his commute to work.
He puts up with me when I’m tired, grumpy and feeling overextended. He takes care of me in all the ways: he helps with the the endless housework that comes with having young children, he gives me breaks to be completely alone so that I can recharge – a need he does not share, but respects. He buys me flowers.
His patience is endless. And he does all that he can and more to live a good life.
But whenever I look over at him lately, his eyes are always sad.
My husband was blessed with a mother who loves him fiercely. A mother whose adoration instilled unshakable confidence within him. A mother’s whose love was like a force of nature – strong, feisty and in charge.
Her nickname for my husband is “my life.”
“Hello, my life…”
“Yes, of course, my life…”
She has a way of loving that makes you feel like your world is indeed her entire life. And she managed to love me that way as well.
Despite her immense dedication to her son, I always felt like she was constantly looking out for me. Always yelling at me to ask for more and put up with less, often over what to me seemed like minor things:
“You let him go golfing again?! No, tell him he must stay home with you and he is not allowed to spend any money! Stay in control!”
No matter what, I always felt like she was on my side, teaching me how to be strong.
But in reality, she was on everyone’s side. She never chose one person over another. She chose us all. She was completely devoted to loving each member of her family as...READ MORE
