Jake

Three years ago tomorrow I married Jake Penner. I think back to that day, as well as the short months before that when we were engaged. Little did I know how quickly and dramatically our lives would change, and (realistically) little did I know about my new husband. It’s funny how you think you know each other so well, and then life happens and you really find out what you’re both made of. I’m sure I’ll look back in another 3 and another 3 and another 3 and think at each point how little I knew him at the point before.

The one thing that hasn’t changed at all is Jake’s easy-going personality. Not that he doesn’t at times get frustrated (maybe even angry,) but overall, he’s such an easy guy to live with. Yeah, he leaves his clothing on the floor sometimes (okay — I’m being gracious — socks on the floor most of the time ) and often leaves the peanut butter and honey out on the counter after preparing his nightly sandwich, but in the grand scheme of things, what do those kind of things matter? However, years and familiarity have a way of making things like that more irritating.

Years and familiarity also have a way of making some things more precious. I think back to the immediate shock of seeing that positive pregnancy test, not two months into our marriage. I can still hear his, “Stop crying and be happy about this. It’s good.” Then, there was the incredible work stress, including the death threats and the unsatisfactory resolution by the principal of the school. He heard me crying about every morning as I thought about going to work, and I knew (because he told me often) that I could quit that day if I wanted. He knew he could take care of us without my income. I remember seeing the tears in his eyes (hope he doesn’t mind my saying) when Ava was born, and since then have seen the incredible love he has for his daughter. We stressed through several immigration issues, including two trips to Atlanta and lots of phone calls (and money!) Then, there was the second pregnancy — he was excited about having twins and tried to keep me upbeat about it. When I question whether I did something to cause the one baby to die, he’s the first one to tell me “absolutely not.” He’s endured a prenancy that ended in late August (i.e., hot, uncomfortable wife.) He’s trying to learn to deal with screaming — both Ava’s and Luke’s — although it’s definitely not in his comfort zone. Then there was the kidney stone issue two days before Luke was born, and the emergency room trip to deal with that. He bathes Ava more than I do, and every night, he brushes her teeth before bed. Our days are a little empty when he doesn’t come home for lunch, and our evening are definitely a little longer when he takes on extra jobs or deals with issues at the apartments.

He’s worked for almost two years as a handyman — NOT his dream job or what he really wants to do with his life. But, he goes without any complaint every morning and hands me checks when he gets them. I’m often amazed that he doesn’t say anything but “Thank you” when he gets the $60 we’re each allowed to spend at our discretion each month. Last weekend, he even called to ask me if there was money in the cash plan for him to buy new shoes (which he desperately needed!) I’m quite sure not every man does that. In the same vein, he lets me amuse myself with redeemable “junk”, even getting a few things out of the road-side trash piles for me himself.

He’s grown a lot since we met. Last spring, I was so proud of him as he took steps to further his education. He meets faithfully with a group of men for accountability and fellowship. He appeases my desire to spend lots of time with my parents, and rarely even mentions the amount of time we spend at their house. I hope he can see some comparable growth in me.

The kid’s shirts say it well — you rock! So, with a very full heart, I say “Happy Anniversary, Baby. May the next three be just as great!”