I didn’t get much for Christmas. I will not lie and say I was okay with that. I was not. (If you could hear the voice in my head, I am still not, but I digress).
I have been with my Husband just over 11 years and married for 6. In that time, we have grown individually, grown together and grown up.
I love watching him with our daughter. He’s soft, nurturing, encouraging, brave and curious. But this past weekend, The Kid and I both learned that My Husband, her father, is a TERRIBLE Harmonica player. There’s no rhyme or reason to the racket he was making but the intent was good?
I was tickled at the way he calmly just blew random notes as she played with the plastic bag generally unbothered by her doting father’s attempt at imparting culture and a memory. I have not asked him what was going through his mind as he blew the soft notes, but when I look at the above photograph, what is seen is a tender moment. What isn’t seen is the noise these two were making as I was recording a video for the #StrokeYoLetters Challenge and the plethora of questions I was asked about my grocery choices.
In the video you hear him ask about the goat cheese. It was the cheapest cheese I could find for my salads and this week our budget was particularly strapped and I couldn’t afford the feta my heart desired.
2018 was a rough year. But if this past Saturday is any indication, I can only hope the racket that 2019 brings has no rhyme or reason, but will also provide soft, nurturing, encouraging, brave and curious moments for my entire family.