I was getting ready for a funeral of all things when my husband said to me (out of the blue):
"You look more beautiful today than you ever have."
I can't really remember how I responded because I was taken aback.
He just sort of threw it out there ... Without any warning or indication that it was coming ... But it had me thinking for the rest of the day.
We've been "together" for about eleven years and have known each other slightly longer than that. He's seen me just about every single day for the past six years or so, a majority of those days being of the mundane and boring sort. He's watched me (red-faced and exhausted) deliver a squishy, squirmy baby into the world.
Part of my brain doesn't quite understand how, after all of that, I can still be beautiful to him at all.
He's seen me as a teenager ... One that, although a little late to bloom, was confident and cute. One that loved to laugh and was comfortable in who she was.
He's seen me as a college co-ed ... Determined and focused, yet ready to see where life would take me. More comfortable with my (finally!) filled out physique and more apt to "dress up" and look presentable, make-up and contacts and fitted shirts and all.
He's seen me as a newlywed wife ... So unbelievably happy after a gorgeous wedding day where I was (for once) the most beautiful girl in the world. Frolicking on the beach in a bikini during our honeymoon (something I hadn't owned since I was a little kid) and knowing I could actually pull it off.
He's seen me as a new mother ... First glowing with the radiance only a pregnant woman can possess, and then with the unmistakable shine of leaking breast milk and baby spit-up. With sleepy eyes and a tired mind, but a heart so full of love and giddiness I could have stayed awake forever.
And now ...
When body parts that were once bigger have shrunken and body parts that were once smaller (and probably a bit more fit and firm) have increased in size and gone a bit softer. When stretch marks have left their fading, yet noticeable, grooves like animal scratches across surfaces that used to be unblemished. When clothes are baggy and "comfortable" and contacts are hardly ever worn. When teeth (sometimes) don't get brushed until the middle of the afternoon and hair is usually air dried in some sort of crazy, unruly style ...
Now, he thinks I'm more beautiful than I have ever been.
Maybe I should get dressed up more often.