Alex’s hair is getting a little gray. It’s a wonder he still has a thick head of hair at all, considering his maternal uncle and grandfather are as bald as a baby’s backside.
Every once and awhile, I’ll get a glimpse of his gray hair and it reminds me how long we have been together, who we were when we fell in love, and who we’ve become.
I am thankful to have a husband who has been willing to let me grow and change as much I have. No one could have predicted that this is where we’d be at 36. Alex has been an unflinching partner, an encourager, a listener, my bestie. He has not been threatened or scared by my crisis of faith; he has stuck by me. He is a good man- a selfless partner, a hardworking father, an intentional husband.
Whenever my eyes catch the streak of silver hair just behind his ear, I remind myself to feel thankful, truly grateful, that I chose to hitch my wagon to Alex those many moons ago.