I’ve written very little about my wife, Reanna. She prefers to stay out of the public eye, for the most part. But she’s been blogging more lately, and it’s her birthday today, and I’m feeling optimistic about getting away with it:

I am so lucky to have married Reanna! I’ve always been a lucky man, but she takes it over the top. I am certainly going to  have a bigger, happier, prettier, more interesting, more connected life because of her. And when my eventual death occurs to me, I feel noticeably calmer about it.

I get to hang out and talk with Reanna every day. She’s super fun to talk with because she’s so smart. It’s not just that she grasps and manipulates concepts and models so easily, it’s that she’s hungry for them and tenacious with them, working and talking through them until she’s made them her own. I love it!

And I love how physical she is. She inhabits her body fully. I’m so lucky to get to watch her swimming, dancing, stretching, smiling, to feel her confident touch.

I love how she is compulsively honest. I love how she thinks about her friends and family. I love her family and feel so lucky to have them as my family. I love that she makes quilts and tailors my clothes. I love that she likes gardening and loves cacti.

I love how she inspires me. I think of her as my audience when I write. Hers is the voice of my internal devil’s advocate. I take on projects I never would have because of her–our trailer renovation is a good example. We’re planning to write books and blogs together, have a family of our own, and who knows what else?

Best of all, with my family’s genetics I very well may get to live 50 or more years with Reanna. Lucky!

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