I really have to say that my husband is the epitome of love. He met me on July 5, 1976 in a twist of fate. I was out with my American Eskimo dog, Penny, sitting alone at the first little table next the wall, at the Dixie Chicken, in College Station, Texas. I had been widowed six months, was thinking over my life with two little kids, and had turned away a couple of guys. But then this tall, blonde man in blue jeans and a white V-neck tee-shirt says, "Are you alone or waiting for someone?" I looked up, and decided to say, I was alone.
He has been the love of my life - more importantly, he is the father to our children (we have three total) and grandfather to seven. He is our family patriarch, loved by ALL my siblings, their children, and so many more.
He takes care of me 24/7 since I am paralyzed from a stroke, and have other health problems - EVEN THOUGH he has survived five heart attacks, stents and quintuple bypass, and has heart failure and COPD. He is my miracle man.
His mother died on Valentines Day, 1985. She was such a joy. Both of our mothers had the middle name "Jean."