Who is the most important person in my life?

Without a doubt, that is my husband, Ken. He sustains me. We have been married for 30 years now and it has not been without its bumps. I can always count on him to be in my corner. I suffer with bipolar disorder and the winter months are really tough. He faithfully goes to work, helps with housework, cooks, shops and is a great Dad to our four kids. I can always count on him to make me laugh.

Not that we don’t drive each other nuts sometimes though…I hate his piles and piles of metaphysical books that I do not think he will ever get read. He hates that I don’t squeeze the toothpaste tube from the bottom. My pet peeve is not opening boxes correctly and putting butter on a dirty butter dish, over and over. We have a dusty Nordic Trac that he dragged home from the thrift store a few years ago. I’d like it gone, but I would rather have him here.

We have not killed each other yet, and I cannot imagine a day without his smile and his jokes and his silliness with our pets. He is the sunshine that is always there, no matter how grey the day and dark the night.

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