My husband is feeling old.

Since leaving the military a few years ago, he has taken it a little bit "easier" than he did as a soldier. And he deserves to do so.

GB is one of those men (who I feel are becoming more and more rare!) that does things because they are the right thing to do. He does things because they need to be done. He always tries to do the honorable thing. Certainly he fails sometimes. But the attempt is there. He is a hard worker, with a quiet soul that doesn't ask for (much) praise for what he does. He works long, long days, comes home and listens to a needy wife who likes to talk and loves an audience. More often than not he cooks and does the housework. He's more than the family breadwinner, he's the baker as well. He is a good person, and I learn more how to be a better person by having him near.

I certainly understand him not taking time out to go to the gym or go jogging now. And he's still gorgeous - an eye-catchingly handsome man. The washboard stomach that was there when I met him has gone a tad soft, but not progressed to unattractive or "beer belly-ness" yet. And as I have become quite the little marshmallow, I certainly have nothing to complain about in GB.

He possesses the innate male ability to fix things, and yet still remains sensitive enough to not just encourage my knitting and fiber addictions, but to tolerate my teaching him to do it as well. He is patient with my much-adored animals, and accepts my love for them. He has yet to complain about my excessive emotionalism, and has always offered a strong, safe shoulder to cry on. But GB also has a desire to be "one of the guys," so the phone call saying a local softball team needed another player was right up his alley.

And so he did it, driving through horrendous traffic Saturday morning to endure the first hot day of the season (we skipped right from early Spring cold to early Summer heat!) and played three softball games with his new team.

I saw part of the third game, and to my very biased and even more un-experienced eye, he's the best one on the team. Running, diving, catching, throwing, hitting.... These are not skills that I've ever wanted to possess, but he does. And it's interesting that I've always known how very physical a person he was, and yet never really connected that to athleticism.

(side bar: "Good eye." What a silly thing to say. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying "yes, and you have a lovely ear.")

But GB played the games, and played them well, and I was proud to watch.

Now he hurts. I will say for him that he is not the type of man to whine over each little pain. He's more the type that, having all his limbs still attached, is more likely to claim to be fine, and that he can "walk it off" - but he's hurting. He's been glued to the massaging chair pad I gave him this winter. He's limping up and down the hall, and moving much slower in all activities. He's been much more willing to let me carry things, hold the dog leash, etc, instead of being uber-gentleman. He feels old.

And he might think I'm teasing him when I smile, watching him limp down the hall with a grimace on his face. He might think I'm disappointed that he got "out of shape" to begin with, as he has said he is with himself.

But I'm enjoying this. Partly because it's nice to see a weakness in a man that I see as so stoically strong most days. Mostly because I've seen him with that washboard stomach, and I loved him then, but I love him all the more now because of the history I have with him, because of the growth I've seen in him, and because of the future that I will see - that I'm sure will have much more limping and sore muscles!

Watching him grow older is lovely. Watching him grow older by my side is heaven.

I am blessed by that man.


Thoughts for the Day:

Unknown - I have this theory that chocolate slows down the aging process.... It may not be true, but do I dare take the chance?

Guatama Buddha - Let go the past, let go the future, and let go what is in between, transcending the things of time. With your mind free in every direction, you will not return to birth and aging.

Doug Larson - The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.