The Best Man I Know
Bryan is easily the best man I've ever met. His compassion, his humor, his personality, his loyalty, his smarts, his strength, the way he makes me feel safe, etc. He's truly an all-around wonderful man, in every sense of the word.
The problem is, right now, Bryan doesn't feel like much of a man. In a "the man provides for his woman" kind of way. In his mind, just as in many other men's minds, his physical and financial contributions to our relationship somehow equate to how much of an equal partner he is at home.
He's beyond frustrated that he can't help me with simple things like unloading the dishwasher, taking out the trash, doing the laundry (suddenly he's interested in a hobby he couldn't stand pre-tumor!) and even simple things like moving his car on street cleaning days. He spent so much time apologizing for his "lack of abilities" and for the fact that he couldn't help me, that it really broke my heart. The biggest thing to me was that there was a huge part of the equation that Bryan didn't understand. His concerns as a man weren't my same concerns as a woman. And I have told him this, again and again and again. I think it's finally starting to sink in, because I've let him know that never once in my mind did I ever see him as less of a man. If anything, my respect and love for him grew because of how he continues to handle what is – without a doubt – one of the most difficult medical situations out there.
I could care less that he doesn't help take dishes out of the dishwasher or drive me to dinner. Because, you know what? That's not what defines a man. As a woman, I'm much more fulfilled by his emotional and mental side. At the end of a day, I can still snuggle up next to him on the couch. He can still put his arm around me. He holds my hand when we walk, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He gently plays with my hair when we're watching TV. He tells me he loves me more than anything in the world, about 10 million times a day. He tells me I'm beautiful, even after a long day of running around to and from hospital visits, pharmacy visits and other errands. He says thank you for everything, whether it's reminding him to take his medication or bringing him water. He respects me. He makes me laugh every day. He smiles at me whenever I come into the room. And maybe one of the best things: every time I look at Bryan, I am in awe by how handsome my husband is. His jaw is so strong, his eyes are so kind, his skin is so soft. He has the distinct advantage of being undeniably handsome when he's both scruffy and when he's smooth-shaven.
To me, that makes Bryan the best man I've ever known. And it makes me one of the luckiest women in the world, no matter how tough this gets. We're only 30 years old, and already I've seen some friends get divorced and even stay in terrible marriages just because they are too afraid to get out. So, while we may be fighting a real disease, I often am so thankful of the fact that our relationship isn't the disease we're fighting. We're on the same team, we're true partners and we get stronger every day.
Time to stop writing; Bryan just finished his mango sorbet and I'm taking the dish into the kitchen. He'll say thank you and give me a kiss and a big smile to show his appreciation. I'd say that's more than a fair trade-off, and makes him the best man I know.
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