I'll Say It Again

Do you know what? I realize that its not thanksgiving till tomorrow, and that this is what I always say I am thankful for, but I don't care. I'm saying it again because it is relevant right now and I want to remember how I'm feeling when I'm old and decrepit.

I'm grateful for Lester. He holds my heart in his hands. Nobody has the ability to make me feel better about myself, or worse-do you get that? Like if someone were to say, ' you look nice today Julia..' or 'that color looks awful on you' it wouldn't feel half as great or half as awful as if he said it. The best part is, even with all that power he holds NEVER abuses it. He only ever uses it to make sure I feel important, or loved, or beautiful. Even in the times I know that I'm not.

The moment I knew this, was the moment that I knew I would marry him. After he got home from his mission, we were unsure of things, and eventually it got to the point where I told him that it was just to hard for me to be friends with him-after all we'd been through and all we'd meant to each other it was impossible for me to do some kind of half way thing. I asked him not to call, or anything. So we didn't talk for about two weeks-and then he called and I could hear in his voice that everything was different. That he knew what he wanted, and was 100% sure that he wanted to be with me. But still, I was afraid and unsure and I told him I needed to think about it.

The next day I hopped on a plane and went home for Thanksgiving. He called day and night, and I started feeling those old feelings return, but I pushed them back because I didn't want to open myself up to all the love that automatically brings vulnerability. The day before I flew back to school, I got really sick. But my plane was leaving, so I went anyways. By the time I got back, I was in pain and tears and I looked disgusting. Lester met me at the airport with my sister Hillary. Over the next several hours, Lester cuddled me and my nasty, sickly self, and literally fed me and helped me to drink. I was an emotional and physical wreck-and he cared for me the way only he could.

And you know what is so stupid? He still looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world. Which at that point especially, I was the farthest from. But because he said it-because he saw me that way-it mattered. He made me feel that even in one of my worst moments where I was whiny and ugly and stinky that I was loved, important and beautiful. Only he can do that-and it was then that I knew no matter what life brought us, we were in this together, and someday I would marry him. Because he makes me better in every single way.

That is still true. And this night, this season, as he works all hours at the hospital to provide for me, that is what I am thinking about. That is what I am grateful for. I'm writing this so I won't forget it or take this love and compassion he gives me for granted. What a wonderful gift-to be loved and to get to love him in return for eternities. This is what I am thankful for.