Hi, Honey!

Kevin is in Ohio right now to help his parents with some remodeling, and here I rest, alone in our living room in Winona Lake. Sniff. We're on Skype together, doing our respective own things and not really talking. He doesn't know that my respective thing is to write about him. Heh heh heh. We just passed our fourth wedding anniversary, and I was going to write this to post on that day, but life intervened, as life tends to do. So here it is, a little late and a little less eloquent than I would like, because I'm tired: a tribute to my kind, sincere, thoughtful, mindful, faithful, gentle partner, lover, soulmate, and dearest friend.

Kevin is the best listener I know. If you need someone to listen compassionately and without judgment to your life story, for hours and hours, give him a call.

Kevin is as respectful as they come. He is a true egalitarian: he acknowledges and bows to the worth and dignity of every soul, without regard for gender or lifestyle or prior convictions. When I met him, his best friends were all women. Not fluffy cheerleader types either; his friends were intelligent, articulate, humble women of substance. I (and only I) know in whom he was interested before me, and I can tell you that he's always only ever noticed intelligent women of substance.

Kevin is a nuanced thinker. He rejects fundamentalism in all its manifestations and considers every tiny complexity of an issue before forming an opinion. He's crazy intelligent and is good at most things.

Kevin is a peaceful man. He'll never carry a gun, and he doesn't raise his voice. He is verrrrrrry slow to anger. In four years of marriage, we've had one fight. He never, ever attempts to dominate me or anyone or anything else. Our home is placid and safe.

Kevin has an amazing sense of humor. It's dry, intelligent, and never lewd. He's so playful: he chases me around the house, does funny dances to make me laugh, and fireman-carries me to bed. He just made a goofy face at the Skype camera thingie, because I have a serious face when I write.

Kevin has a great body. And he takes very good care of me. If you know what I mean.

Kevin is an actor. He's good at it too! Any of you who have ever hung out with us theatre peeps know how rad it is that he's a theater peep. Fo sho.

Kevin gave away our tv. Huzzah!!!!!

Kevin puts the seat down, takes out the trash, puts the cap back on the toothpaste, does the laundry, cuts the grass, washes the dishes, cleans the litter and feeds the cat, makes me tea every morning, gets me a glass of water before bed every night, and brings me unsolicited hot foot baths.

Kevin has the guts to be my partner. He wasn't intimidated by my past, isn't intimidated by me. My relatives don't freak him out, and he's genuinely fond of my remarkable baby sister. I can just be me, all of me, and I'm safe. We have lively, long, intense discussions about all manner of things, and we have quite a few divergent perspectives, and he's never insecure.

Kevin works as an au pair for a single mother of three boys. He takes such good care of those boys. He's wise when they're difficult, tender and nurturing when they're hurting, patient and understanding when they lash out because they're bothered by life and don't yet know how to express their pain. He bikes with them, plays catch with them, takes them to the zoo and the park, teaches them what he knows, keeps the tv off, and hugs them goodbye. Please pray that I can get pregnant so I can make him a dad. If any man was ever born to be a dad, he was.

Kevin leaves me alone when I need to be alone and lets me cling when I need to cling, and never complains about either.

Kevin touches me a lot. He rubs my shoulders and my feet, hugs me at least once an hour, holds my hand, and lends me an arm as we walk in the street. When we walk together, he always walks between me and the traffic.

Kevin lets me feed him a flexitarian diet, even though he grew up eating meat three times a day. He eats vegetables! Lots of them!

When my grandfather died and we spent a week with my grandmother in Philadelphia, Kevin spent days taking care of things around the house that Grandpop normally would have done for her. He even recorded her new answering machine message so that a male voice might mask the fact that she was living alone.

When my grandmother died nine weeks later and I inherited her house and then it flooded, Kevin carried me through those wretched six months. He made phone calls, reminded me of everything I forgot to do, kept my mother at bay, drove me to and from Philadelphia over and over and over, hauled carload after carload of junk from their house, sorted and lifted and scraped and scrubbed and recycled and read documents and picked up meals and put up with my relatives.

When my mom is being particularly nasty, Kevin tells her off for me (kindly but firmly). The last time she physically attacked me was four and a half years ago, and he hasn't let me be alone with her since. No one on earth has ever defended me before.

When a friend of ours was fresh from a breakup last year and had dinner at our house, Kevin came home from work with four pints of the best organic ice cream he could find, because he wanted to comfort her.

When he talks to a child, Kevin gets down on his knees and looks her in the eye.

When someone is cold, Kevin gives up his jacket.

When someone is tired, Kevin gives up his seat.

Happy, happy four years. Happy fifty or sixty more!