This is him:
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Calm.
This is me:
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Not so calm.
This being said, there are times with him the even and calm moods are peaked. It stirs me a bit and the earth stops moving on its axis and my heart goes pitter pat. I remember each of those moments like a photograph, in addition to a million others I have gotten to spend with him. These are some that have happened over the past 8 years:
* Terrified face tripping (safely) down two flights of marble stairs in a hotel in Rome. It was like modern dance the way your body, long legs, torso, and feet contorted about so quickly and awkwardly, yet ultimately controlled. You were catlike. And I think I peed my pants laughing.
* Bursting joy and shouts of thrill when The Diamond Backs won the World Series. I have never seen you jump so high off of the couch in my entire life. The fists were in the air, the blood flowing. I got to see what the ultimate fan of any sport waits all season for year after year. It convinced me sports are important to you and adds emotion to your life. I knew I would be the wife that would not complain about the Super Bowl or World Series, it would be a tradition that would be important to us as a family. Even if I never know who is playing and I don't really know the rules of the game.
* Sitting across from me in Brooklyn at that Peruvian restaurant we tried on a whim. I think it was cold outside. I remember crossing the street with the reflection of dim lights from various restaurants reflecting in tiny puddles. I remember the bright orange paint on the wooden restaurant sign and how pleased I felt for adventurously trying new food as I followed your lead. You got that drink with the seeds at the bottom. It looked gross. You told me casually how recently at the temple, you looked at me from across the room in all white and I was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. I was not expecting that and it made me cry. The candle between us was perfect, tiny and slight in its warmth and light. We never ate there again, I didn't care much for the food. But of all the places I would like to visit again, it's on my list.
* A night in Winsor Terrace. Not our best year. I got to see genuine. Love. True. And Forever.
* Each time you held each of our baby boys for the first time. Proud Papa Bear. Just completely and intensely peaceful and happy. Vulnerable and pure and raw. It was like I could see through your body and watch your heart pound every.single.beat. and see the blood circulate through your capillaries. There isn't any other time I have seen you smile the way you have when you introduced yourself to your baby boys.
* Early summer evening in London. Perhaps the one I will recall more vividly with the widest range of emotions. I walked several steps ahead of you and our friend on the way to dinner. We were discussing what kind of food we should seek. Fish and Chips again? I was wishing I had a more stylish wardrobe to represent a young girl from the states as I crossed the street. A car that was stopped let up on the break just enough to tap his front bumper into my shin. I tripped as you would over a large boot, but caught myself with an embarrassed grin. I felt pretty dumb for not being more cautious. Or was the driver actually being a......before I could turn around and realize what happened you were leaning into the open window and shoving the driver with the strength of 10 Vikings and shouting in his face "THAT'S MY WIFE" over and over again. He was startled. I was stunned. And then he got out of the car while his friend watched in the passenger seat. Um, he was about 2 feet taller than you. Some shoving back and forth and I thought it odd he raised his hand like he wanted to slap you. ? Slap? I was trying to remember my Ju Jitsu moves and resigned to the fact that I would just kick him in the nuts if things got ugly, that was about all I could offer if need be. Upon much pleading on my part (begging really, it was a foreign country, after all, and I worried his friend might step out of the car with a crowbar), Mike walked away.
My tiger, my husband, my own personal warrior. I flipped from embarrassed, to shocked, to scared, to angry (fight! mode), to flattered within about 4 minutes. And then as we all calmed down and looked for a Chinese restaurant I asked if the other guy kept saying what I thought he was saying.
In an Arabic accent over and over he said to Mike: "Do you want me to eff you in the @$$hole?" We were rather confused, but laughed for several blocks about what a random thing that is to say to someone in a fight.
