My wife is the mother/nose wiper/kitten catcher/feeder/cleaner upper/transporter of four children (five if you rightly count me), an eighty book a year reader, an awesome writer, a co-founder of a moms and preschoolers ministry, the leader of one and participant in another book club, a part-time salesperson in a local art gallery, the manager of our household. She is stunningly beautiful, remarkably brilliant, quick-witted, charming, and an absolute delight to be around.
Linda sent me home from the hospital after the births of kids 2, 3, and 4 so I could get a good night sleep.
Linda lets me sleep at night when the kids are sick, crying, or just plain old awake.
Linda sends me fishing many times a summer, even though she is on the clock 24-7.
Linda tells me what I need to know, so I don’t have to guess what she is thinking.
Linda sits on the couch and talks with me into the late hours of the night, even though all she really wants to do is pick up the book that is resting in her hand with a finger so tenderly tucked between the pages where the words are eagerly awaiting to be read.
Linda challenges me to strive for the best rather than settling for good enough.
Linda has taught herself to cook ad eat salmon and halibut making delicious dishes of smoked salmon creamy pasta, barbeque salmon, halibut tacos, beer battered halibut, salmon cakes, and many more, making me feel my fishing trips are somehow worthwhile.
Linda insisted on buying the Outback instead of the Legacy.
Linda put her foot down to ensure we got the right house.
Linda is selflessly there for her friends and family in their time of need.
Linda washes, dries, and folds the laundry for our family of six.
Linda paints murals on the walls for our children.
Linda takes the kids to the zoo, the park, on outings, and out and around all summer.
Linda puts up with my weird work travel schedule, sends me off with a kiss and tear in her eye, talks with me for hours when I’m on the road, eagerly tells me to hurry home, and greets me more times than not with a kiss and a warm meal that was not cooked in a restaurant.
Linda gives me perspective in my times of trouble, provides me kind and sound counsel, and is there to support me in my various neuroses.
Linda looks beautiful in black, white, purple, red, green, orange, yellow, gold, silver, diamonds, in my arms, in the car, soaking in the sun, doing the dishes, reading a book, and playing spider on the computer while talking with her mom/brother/friend on the phone.
Linda tells me what is on her mind, on her heart, and on her nerves. She speaks the truth in love, love in kindness, and kindness in sincerity.
Linda invests time in her friendships, bringing me delight in getting to know those around her even more.
Linda lets me tinker in the yard and garage, tie flies for fishing, sleep in, play computer games, and watch movies.
Linda lets me drag the family around on adventures.
Linda lets me spend time one-on-one with the kids.
Linda lets me be right every now and then, even though I am likely wrong.
Linda is my best friend.
Linda is blushing now as she reads this.
