I had a biopsy today, that required a large needle. (I won’t be offended if you don’t want to read this post, if things like needles and weird biopsies make you squeamish).

In the scheme of things, after going through emergency c-sections and open-heart surgeries, this was a relatively minor procedure. But it involved a large needle and my tongue, and I’d been dreading the possibility for a couple months now.

I have had a weird blister-like growth on my tongue and it would not go away. And it liked to bleed on occasion, resulting in a very expensive ER visit to stop said bleeding. The ER doctor/nurse suggested follow-up and then the regular doctor suggested I see the specialist, and today was finally the day to see what this crazy, annoying thing was.

And that required a complete removal of the growth, and a biopsy. The doctor was VERY reassuring that it was probably one of a few simple things, none of which were anything scary like cancer, so that was comforting. But I still had to get through the needle injection and removal.

I know I gushed about my husband already this month, but as I processed this minor traumatic event, I knew I wanted to mention him again in my Gratituesday post. The man is a rock, steady as they come, and he is such a great comforting presence for me. He has been with me through every doctor appointment with two difficult pregnancies, every procedure, every ultrasound and echocardiogram, both c-sections, and while he couldn’t hold my hand during the open heart surgery, he was there in the waiting room, holding and waiting.

Allan and I approach most tough situations completely differently. He is a jokester, I am serious. He is steady, I can be a nervous wreck. He is calm, and I am often… not calm. It’s a fun life. After almost 20 years together, I’d like to think I’ve learned to joke more and am slightly more calm. And I know he is more serious than he used to be, but only VERY occasionally, and if I INSIST he be serious. (See, here I am, joking a little!) It hasn’t always been easy, this growing together, and growing towards one another. We’ve hit our fair share of road bumps, and have had some significant dips on the roller coaster of marriage.

BUT… when the doctor came close with the (very large) needle, the nurse asked if I wanted her to hold my hand. My husband asked the same question at the same time. I immediately wanted my husband’s strong, steady hand. The needle in the tongue was every bit as awful as you can imagine, and then some, and then my tongue required stitches, which was a completely different needle and thread! It was only after it was all over that I realized I’d squeezed the life out of my husband’s fingers. I didn’t even think about it – I just KNEW I could hold his hand, and he could take whatever pressure I put on him.

Steady. Calm. Present. Comforting. (And always, always there with the jokes).

I am so thankful.

20 years ago today, I drove from York, Nebraska to Denver, Colorado to meet up with Allan B Huskins Jr. for the first time. We had been talking, and then “dating” online and over the phone for several weeks, and February 13, 2004 was our first in-person meeting.

The drive to Colorado was just six hours, but it felt like sixty. I was nervous, but also so very excited. Nervo-cited, as one of my kids calls it. I was 99% sure that I was going to marry Allan, but I hadn’t actually met him in person yet! Sound crazy? Yeah, it probably was, a little. But several weeks of talking non-stop (like 40 hours a week talking), and I was certain he was the guy for me. He seemed to feel the same.

But we needed to MEET each other first!

I pulled into the parking lot at Cracker Barrel, with little almost 2 year old Samuel in the back seat watching “Blues Clues” on a borrowed VCR/TV combo. He was happy as could be (he almost always was), with no idea that this night might change our lives pretty drastically. I arrived just a couple minutes before Allan, and then I saw his Jetta pull in and park right next to my car. I took a deep breath, and jumped out of the van. It was the moment of truth. And the moment Allan got out of his car and enveloped me in a hug, I KNEW. I won’t ever forget that moment, the smells of his leather Indy jacket, the absolutely gorgeous smile and dimples, the warm, comforting, strong arms.

I was home. He proposed before the weekend was over, and I said yes.

And for the last 20 years, Allan and I have been “home” for each other, traveling this life together through the best of times and the worst of times. We have been through very difficult life-threatening pregnancy, babies and toddlers, special needs with our kids, severe grief and loss, moving across the country, and the teenage years with our three kids! So much of it has been HARD, and yet there has always been laughter in our home. We have struggled mightily in many ways, but we’ve continued to overcome, thanks to God’s grace. And God has been SO GOOD to us, through it all.

This last year has been one of the toughest, AND one of the best. I can’t even put into words how much Allan has been there for me. (If you know me, you know I’ll try to find the words anyway). He has been a solid rock of support, encouragement, help and love. The vows “in sickness and in health”? Yeah, he has lived those vows with me for all 20 years, but most especially this last year. I am certain I would not have been willing to go through the surgery without his help (and I mostly agreed to have the surgery FOR him). The days at home following the surgery were again some of the hardest AND the best. I was totally vulnerable and helpless, dependent on him for everything. As a Type-A personality, control freak, I hated it. But also so thankful for my husband.

Over the last year we have also discovered what time alone feels like. For six weeks after my surgery, we went almost nowhere, and sat together in our living room while I recuperated…talking, eating, resting, and talking a little (lot) more. And now, with two kids out of the house, and the one left at home that is SO busy, she’s hardly ever here, Allan and I have found ourselves with a lot more time to continue to sit and talk and eat and relax ALONE. It has been a sweet preview to what an empty nest will look like, (and I’m totally ready!)

20 years. I had no idea what ALL was to come when I made that nervous drive to Colorado, but I will always be thankful that I did and that I found my HOME in Allan B Huskins Jr.