Happy Birthday, SkyMan

Today is Skylar's birthday. I spend a lot of time on the internet gushing about him or sharing with you the absurd things he does, like drink Pepto Bismol as a snack, or charge a karaoke stage while high on cold medication and bring the house down with a surprising rendition of "It's Raining Men." 

I periodically like to remind people of the time my husband showed up in sweats, high on medication, and forced himself onto a karaoke stage. pic.twitter.com/Kfy7uGZDGR

— Eli McCann (@EliMcCann) January 10, 2021

There are surely people who follow me here or on one of the six thousand social media accounts that is currently rotting my brain and who start to roll their eyes the dozen times a day I start a tweet with "MY HUSBAND." I don't blame you. If I wasn't me I would totally follow me just to to make fun of me. 

But I can't help it, and you wouldn't be able to either if you were fortunate enough to be married to Skylar. 

Literally every single morning I wake up, see him next to me, and feel a rush of adrenaline. Frequently I find myself amazed that I ended up having the life I have—a life with him. It feels like I'm living inside of the best possible dream a person could conjure. Several years ago I met this very weird man who felt more like home than any place I've ever lived, and that man actually wanted to marry me.

When we talk about partners we often have a tendency to self-deprecate—to describe our love in terms of comparison. "I don't deserve him." "I can't believe someone so wonderful would want to be with someone like me." But in reality, his goodness, his love, his constant support, his cheerleading, all of him has made me feel significant. He doesn't make me want to be a better person; instead he's just convinced me that I am a better person. And I think that has in fact made me a better person.

I'm a better person because of him.

For a long time I thought romantic love was supposed to be an emotional rollercoaster. I believed it had to be a painful and agonizing journey interrupted by spurts of bliss and euphoria. Love seemed exhausting to me, even if occasionally worth it.

Falling in love with Skylar, which I can see now I truly did instantly, showed me that valuable and sustainable romantic love is never painful. The life you build with someone you truly love can be filled with dashes of monotony, moments of frustration, touches of angst, and spurts of euphoria. But the love itself is the balm that smooths all of that out and makes every piece of it precious. 

That's how I feel with Skylar every day. That he makes every piece of this life we have together precious. 

I love that I can catch his eye from across the room at a party and we both know we're going to talk about the same thing in the car on our way home.

I love that he will squeeze my knee under the dinner table at work functions when a speaker says something uncomfortable.

I love how he talks to our nieces and nephews like they're his best friends and he just hopes they feel the same way.

I love how he scolds me for not washing the dishes well enough, and then he washes the dishes well enough.

I love when he gets his words mixed up to the point that I don't know what he's trying to communicate, and then he'll say "oh, you know what I mean."

I love how fearless he is in asking for things and getting what he wants.

I love his sense of justice.

I love how he says he wants to go "on a coffee run" and then he orders tea.

I love that he calls our family members just to chat.

I love that whenever I travel for work I want to come home the entire time because I miss him.

I love you, SkyMan. Thank you for letting me celebrate another birthday with you. 

~It Just Gets Stranger