Today, Oprah's show is
Your Life, and as a tribute to her efforts,
I begin today's entry with this quote:
the only prayer you say in your life is
"Thank You," it will be enough.
~ Meister Eckhart, 13th century mystic
I have a great
appreciation for life, but on this day before Thanksgiving, I am
particularly thankful for my husband, DH.
By streaming my
thoughts, I'd like to put my gratitude down in words. Likely,
it'll be effusive. Maybe sappy. It might get sentimental. Even
You have been
DH at the Bailey House Museum, Maui
Where do I
begin? How about with how we met?
It was one of those
eyes-across-a-crowded room scenarios. Except it was across a
cafeteria table at Hilo College. DH's crinkled, smiling eyes
had an instantaneous and marked effect on me. I saw the kindness in them.
It was love at first
sight. The sparks flew. There
were fireworks. My heart fibrillated. We'd never met, but I
felt like I knew him from another time and place, so profound
was the jolt of recognition.
On our first date together,
two days later, we clicked, connected on a soul level, and became a
couple for life.
Just being with him would stir remembrances that seemed ancestral,
perhaps even encoded at the cellular level.
Ours wasn't just a
sudden romance, as we were separated for a year while I
finished up my schooling, out-of-state and then on a different
island. During that time, we
built our relationship on a solid foundation of friendship and
respect. We were engaged the following summer.
Now I'll try to
describe him as I know him:
sophisticated? Flawless features? Movie star good looks?
Pierce Brosnan appeal? A charmer? A smooth operator?
Goodness. Caring and
kind. A one-woman man. Gentle, warm and compassionate.
Earthy and down-to-earth. Tender. A sweet boyish
quality, with lots of strong masculinity underneath. Jackie Chan/
Yoyo Ma looks.
He is my ideal. My
dreamboat. The pick of the crop. Top dog. The apple of my eye. The
perfect husband, lover, and friend.
Like me, he's born and
bred Hawai`i. We are both "locals" from Hawai`i, first and
foremost, with a deep love for America. Nurturing his Hawai`i
roots, he never forgets where he came from.
He has an understated
attractiveness that rings my bell. At 5' 8", he is the perfect height for my 5'
2". We are a perfect fit. He'll never need to get his
teeth in perfect alignment. His looks and physique will never need
to be liposuctioned, implanted, or altered by plastic
surgery. I like him just the way he is.
Some guys have
twinkles in their eyes, DH's crinkly eyes sparkle with kindness. He flirts with me incessantly with
them and doesn't even
He's dashing in a tux.
Huggably teddy bearish in sweatshirts. Charismatically
sporting in his polo shirts and dockers. Boyishly adorable
in T-shirt, shorts and barefeet.
His smile is like sunlight
warming my soul.
I love his touch. I
love touching him. Whenever he's around I have to be
touching him in some way, even if it's just the tips of our toes
I love his
smell. I love his hearty laugh. I love his sensuous lips. I
love kissing his temples and nibbling his earlobes. I love how he
marvels at the softess of my skin.
To me, he is tall,
dark and handsome. Like fine wine, he is aging beautifully.
He is older and wiser. A bit wider, but not by much, and
still bounds with amazing energy.
Thirty years after
meeting him, I find him as captivating, appealing and sexy as when
I met him and more.
His greatest beauty
emanates from within, from the soul. Self-effacing and
good-hearted, he's a real, normal and approachable guy. His is a
humble, modest, and somewhat shy demeanor.
He is proof that nice
guys finish first.
He's a giving husband
with an outsize heart. The glue that keeps us together is
our mutual love and reciprocated respect. Easygoing, patient, and
coolheaded, he's an intelligent mate. He has this
marriage-enhancing routine down pat: keep the mouth shut,
nod sagely and let things simmer down first.
We like each other;
enjoy each other's company, more than any one else's. Often, our idea of
a good time is stoking the home fires, alone with each other and
the dog-kids. We relax with candles, baths,
classical and Hawaiian music, films, and books.
Yet, we are not
recluses either. We enjoy socializing with family and friends at the
sushi bar over a bottles of cold beer and sake in winter. Or having them over
for intimate dinners.
DH's a devoted family
man. We, our dog-kids and I, come first in his book.
He is as involved with our dog-kids as I am, and ours is a
close-knit, very loving family.
We believe in God, not
luck; good things come to those who work hard and deserve it.
When I was going
through the most difficult times of my life, he stood by me and
helped me to work my way through a mire of grief.
I never hurt so
acutely as when we were separated from each other for a week when I was
tending to my ailing father. I ached for DH, for his touch,
for his smile. I could picture him at home: sitting in
the house with our dogs, going to bed without me, going to work
without a goodby kiss. It made me so homesick. Later,
we compared notes, and indeed each of us felt as bereft as the
We've helped each
other through the healing process of losing those dearest to us.
With prayer and faith, we've sat together on that hard rock of pain,
accepted it, and with time, moved out of it.
all, be grateful."
Sarah Ban Breathnach
DH is the most
balanced person I know. He'll never be accused of being a
workaholic, yet he is productive. He'll never run on fumes.
Burnout doesn't happen to well-adjusted Type
We lead separate
professional lives, but after work, we are basically
inseparable. We even came to Earth at about the same time;
he is the elder by 20 days. Like old bedroom slippers, we are
comfortable together. Rodney King would be proud of
us: we get along. Home is wherever the other is.
Beyond his home
sphere, he exudes warmth to others as well. He's thoughtful, treating others with courtesy and
respect, and it's not an act. His students love him. His
colleagues are lifetime friends.
Music-making is a tradition within his family. His grandfather was a guitar
player. His grandmother was a shamisen -- a Japanese
stringed instrument -- player and teacher. His father plays
his guitar daily and both his parents sing. They gave him a deep
appreciation for music. He is passionate with the guitar. When
he's not playing music, he's researching guitars or window shopping for
them on the 'Net.
His guitar music is
soulful, seductive and smooth as silk. Modest and low-key,
he plays to a one-person-two dog audience. Me and the
Among his many gifts,
he has one that comes in particularly handy at home. He's an
accomplished cook, and he dotes on me with his cooking. He knows
the way into my heart, how to thrill me with food.
Having someone cook
exclusively for you is an enormously satisfying experience. He can
make juicy ribs that make me suck my fingers. Every forkful of his
spaghetti is a heavenly experience.
and family is one of our favorite activities. Always, he's
the chef, and
I'm the sous chef and clean-up crew. The kitchen is his domain, and I like
playing second fiddle in it.
We share many common
loves, interests and beliefs: We both love Disneyland. Avid
nature lovers, we love being out-of-doors, gardening, and plants. He
twirls me around on the dance floor; he's my Fred and I, his
Ginger. He's a natural athlete;
I'm not, but he's a good sport, and we love to hike, bike and ski together. We pray together.
We bring out the best
in each other. We're cautious not to take each other, our time
together, or our love, for granted.
"The deepest principle in human
nature is the craving to be appreciated."
~ William James
We freely express our
gratitude to God and to one another for one another. He does it with
food. I do it with words. Life
doesn't get better than this, and we know it. We are living our
dreams and our hearts' desires.
I can't wait for him
to walk through the door to thank him myself. I think I'll even let him read this...
Thank you, DH. You da'
"Life is a Gift."
P.S. If you would
like to share a portion of yourself with words, in response to
this journal entry, you may do it here.
only gift is a portion of thyself..."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
| what | archives