The longer we are married, the better he gets. He is like a bottomless treasure chest. If you just met him you would think, "Well sure, he's a nice 30 year old man who wears his seatbelt, stops at red lights, never files for tax extensions, does his hometeaching, has a mature quiet demeanor, works hard and probably buys lemonade from little kids and donates to the salvation army red bucket at Christmas." All of those things are true but this man is like a human seven layer bean dip of qualities that I didn't know could all be contained in a single human body. I sometimes don't open my mouth when I hear other women talk about their husbands because I know I have the secret treasure and I can't believe that I really am sealed to something so unbelievable forever.
I didn't know anyone could have such unending patience and consistent love until I met this curly haired trophy. He checks on Liv 4:1 ratio as much as I do, all night long, because he wants to make sure she is not being stolen and that she is breathing and warm enough. He leaves me notes all over when he works all night because he knows I get scared. He never ever forgets to floss and is the cleanest most organized person I know. He makes Franklin Covey look like a joke because of how meticulous he is in his planning every night for the next day. He sets his alarm for 5 so he can have personal scripture study no matter what while I drool in bed cemented to the sheets. He loves me how I need to be loved even writes down to be spontaneous on his planning because he knows I need it. He is on the same level as Abe Lincoln and Brent Harris for honesty and having integrity in his soul. He wants to help me and asks me all about the details of my day because he knows I need to discuss them. He is funny, beats me at tetris at Racko, gives me the best back rubs and all the old ladies in our ward always tell me how handsome he is (duh, like I haven't figured that out). He loves order and is exact and does his best, even in the details of his life. One day we had forgotten to make the bed because the day had been so busy. It was 9 pm at night and I went in and saw G making our bed. I asked what in the heck he was doing and what time zone he was living in because we were going to sleep in a couple hours. He just said how he just feels better if we do things right including making the bed. One of the items that remind me of G is this:
Exactness. In everything. He never is last minute or does things sloppy or out of convenience. I have never ever in over a year of marriage put away his shoes or had to clean up a single thing after him. I don't think he's ever had a library fine, been late, missed scripture study, lost his temper, been unkind, or not folded his clothes in his life. An accurate symbol of how I live my life is this:
I feel like most of my life has been lived like a garage sale inside of a tornado...disorganized, rushed and full of random items and things to do. Watching how Garrett lives his life has been one of the most humbling inspiring things that has ever happened to me. He makes goals and then he actually does them. He printed us a binder that has all our family council agendas for us to fill in on Sunday. He holds me for hours just because I love it. He does the right thing because it's the right thing, not because he wants to look good or because he worries about what other people will think. He is so full of pure love and righteous desires. He has a quiet confidence and humility that I love. He also loves to play and even when he has worked 13+ hours, and has to study and feels exhausted; he will always make sure to play a game with me before we go to sleep. Sometimes I make him act out musicals and even though it goes against everything in his logical mind, he will sing "Open the Gates" from Newsies in the morning with my choreographing if I ask him. Mostly I love when he comes home and he instantly does this:
I don't know where he came from or how come I get to be his wife but I will be thankful for the rest of my life. He is my life. Sometimes I worry that he is one of the three nephites and that could get awkward in a few years when I start getting wrinkles and he doesn't age at all. I had him get life insurance because sometimes I don't know if he'll get to stay on this side of the veil because I can't see what is keeping him here. I mean sure, he's definitely for real. I'm not saying that he doesn't get ticked when he slices at golf on a critical hole, or doesn't pass gas like he's at scout camp, or doesn't feel frustrated when someone cuts him off on the freeway, but I am saying that even though he's not perfect, he's perfect for me in every way and it blows my mind sometimes at night when I roll over and remember who I get to be married to. I'm so crazy about him, forever.
And how sweet it is (for him) to be loved by you. Your sealing was so powerful--two pure vessels who've been striving, striving, striving. All that goodness in one family unit. Wow, Liv has something to live for.
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