Tuesday, February 14, 2017

When B gets real

You don't know my husband.  But even those that do, I wonder if they do.

He's hilarious.  He's outgoing to the core, always has something to say even if it's jumping to tease someone maybe a little bit too soon.  He loves a good debate.  He self-identifies as lazy and a bit of pain in the ass.  He's not reeled in by anything sappy or touchy-feely.  A lot of his side of conversations sound like Dad stand-up comedy: "And then the toddler peed on the floor and you wonder what you've done with your life."

I wouldn't trade any of that.  Boy, does it help me take everything less seriously.  And I more than make up for taking things seriously, taking things personally, and taking on the pain and feelings of others.

But there are rare times that there is a B that comes through that does take it seriously, so seriously that it takes the air out of the room.  So seriously that he is shaking with emotion.  Not anger.  Not hurt.  Just deep, deep conviction.

This is how B was in the meeting that we had to fight for the right adoptive placement for Crocodile.

I won't go into what the options were or how we ended up with a strange amount of influence in it, but just know that had we not fought as we did, there would have been an outcome we would have questioned the rest of our lives.  I was having trouble advocating as that's not my nature at all.  I like to keep the peace.  I'm a people pleaser.  So, we made sure B was at the meeting, and I expected him to speak strongly, but I didn't quite expect this.

He laid it all out there; his heart, his convictions, and everything he believed was best for Crocodile.  And as he spoke, I saw his lip quiver.  I was actually confused what was going on.  Was B feeling okay?

He was crying.

For the second, maybe third, time in the 17 years I have known him, his eyes were full of tears.  With love for Crocodile.  With conviction for what is best.  With justice and with truth.

I cry for everything.  Rarely for justice and truth.  Usually because someone left their coat in the middle of the floor again or something.

It still has me a bit undone.  What was this strange planet this meeting was on?

At the same time, I know it is my B.  He is not just the jokes and the sighs at the toilet paper unrolled on the floor.  He may not be a "kid person" by nature, but he is a faithful, devoted parent, and one heck of a fighter for kids when it's needed.

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