I write very little about my family, especially my wife. I might mention something she has said or count her as present in a story, but write about her? Not really. I’m also not entirely sure why I have generally avoided the topic of Katie. Perhaps it requires letting some emotional defenses down, which is uncomfortable for many people[citation needed] or because I don’t feel that words can adequately convey how remarkable she is. Foolish concerns be damned, its time to let you know what I think of my wife.
My wife is going to Heaven. Sure, she’s alive and well at the moment, but mortality being what it is, death is something that we all will experience and many of us fear. Like getting married or negotiating the purchase of a first car, death carries with it a peculiar uncertainty; one that can be explained, yet only dispelled by experience. This fear could not possibly grip the heart of my love, as she so frequently shows the loving compassion of Christ to those around her that a face-to-face encounter with Jesus would only evoke in her a sense of familiarity.
Early in our friendship, Katie and I went through several months of ridiculous will they/won’t they romantic tension. Christmas occurred several months before we began dating long-distance, which presented a conundrum to the non-involved-yet-possibly-interested friend that I was; what for a Christmas gift? A chilling period in our friendship had complicated things further and so I made the safe purchase of The Confessions of St. Augustine, The Imitation of Christ and Uniformity With God’s Will – books that had all made an impact in my own spiritual life (an underwhelming gift, I know). A couple days later, I received a beautiful card in the mail from the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters in Lincoln, NE informing me that Katie had had me enrolled in their regular prayer intentions. A group of sisters who do nothing but adore the Eucharist, sleep and go to Mass will be praying for me indefinitely. Realizing that Katie, the friend, not only only cared for me, but for my soul, I dropped my hands and the card into my lap and said aloud, “I have to marry her.”
So I did.
I used to joke about the ‘plight’ of St. Joseph living with the only two perfect humans who have every lived – the Blessed Mother and Jesus. Poor Joseph, always the one to forget to lock the door, to drop a dish, to leave the toilet seat up, get frustrated, lose his temper; its a humorous way to see the situation, but a perspective structured around knowing where to put the blame. Katie is not perfect and it would be unfair of me to expect her to be so, but she is such a close example of Mary that I cannot fathom St. Joseph’s life as anything other than filled with mercy and love. Rather than Joseph being the wah-wah punchline in a episode of The Holy Family sitcom, he was a man, beloved to the two people most capable of love and desirous of his salvation. What mercy and compassion did not exist in that household when every action taken by the Blessed Mother was to further the salvation of her husband and to illustrate the Father’s love for him? Likewise, Katie constantly endeavors, with heroic love, to be the instrument of God, showing the profound depth of His love for me.
The gracefulness my wife portrays is a constant example to me and our children. In moments of tremendous loss, Katie has fallen to her knees, thanking God for what will be missed and asked for mercy and peace to be on those more affected than she. In times of great happiness, she calls the lowly out of their darkness so that she might share her joy with them, especially through the blessings of our children.
Everyone who raises children has their breaking point – needing to calmly close the bedroom door and punch the living daylights out of the bed pillows – and my lovely wife is no exception, yet I am constantly amazed at Katie’s patience with our kiddos. When I would usually be pulling my hair out, she finds the strength to be calm and compassionate, not simply for the sake of peace, but that she might teach our children how to love through her example; tutoring them in charity.
Many husbands have a profound love their wives[citation needed] and I am no exception, yet what sets me apart is the immeasurable and holy love that my wife has for me. It is the constant outpouring of her humility and charity, patience and charm that makes me the luckiest man alive.