Dear Jeff, I Love You.

Dear Jeff,

I love you.

I love the way you love me.  I love the way you love our girls. I love the way you see the world. Nobody sees it just like you do.

Dear Jeff, I love you.

I love your hands. They are more precious than gold. They hold the scars and the ages of our life. They show me your strength to endure the hardest of circumstances. They remind me of your family, the people that taught you how to work and how to go all in, without regard of the safest path or the easiest way to do things.  I love your hands on me, even when they are rough with the grit of the day and the callouses of this life. My skin responds to your touch the same way my soul responds to you. Your hands are a most precious reminder of how hard you work for us.

Dear Jeff, I love you.

I love the “filtered glasses” you always wear, your view of this world. I call you “Rosie” and while you may not know how much I love that filter through which you see things, I do. You always see the good. You will forever see the opportunity and what an ambitious play in any game could create. You are my Rosie, the guy that sees the good in my what-ifs, in my doubt, and in all of my fear.  Thank you.  I love the balance that you give me, Rosie.

Dear Jeff, I love you.

You have a wall. It is high and tall, and difficult to climb over, but once you’re in, you are ALL IN.  You love more graciously than anyone I know. You forgive freely and love hard, harder than others.  There is not a single person that has climbed that wall that doesn’t know you would drop anything and do anything for them. Wow. What a remarkable quality.

Dear Jeff, I love you.

I love how you have to trust first and then give complete vulnerability later. I give vulnerability first and find trust often to be allusive. You teach me lots about how to give to all the right people, and I give you a bit of trust without regard. We make a good team. I love you for that.

Dear Jeff, I love you.

I rememeber the way you look at me when I can’t look at myself. It isn’t that you haven’t struggled to look at yourself in that mirror too, but you always affirm me and remind me to see myself the way you see me. What a gift.  When I ask why you keep staring at me, what I really mean is “what could you possibly see in me all these times that you are looking my way.”  You always glance with respect, curiosity, and love. You see me, really see me, and still love me. You remind me to love myself in all those gazes. Thank you.

Dear Jeff, my Rosie, I love you. I love the way you love me. Forever

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