A Valentine to my Husband

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

“Poor Tony.” I think that’s what most people call him- probably because he’s married to me. T-bone, The Bone, TaBone, Tman, he has so many nicknames, but don’t call him Anthony. If you didn’t know his name, you would never guess that it was “Tony.” He looks like almost anything BUT Tony. Tony is John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever, Tony is James Gandolfini from The Sopranos… Tony Moore isn’t a Tony- he’s almost anything BUT.. Maybe that’s why he has so many nicknames.

Tony and I met online. We met at a time where I was ceasing the “online dating thing” and he was just beginning. My first thought when Tony contacted me was “Another Brit?!!? No thank you.” (Most of you know about the horror show that was Chris G- my boyfriend prior to Tony. British, completely self-absorbed, moody, brooding, constantly on the verge of suicide and getting deported…basically the polar opposite of Tony, but I didn’t know that at the time.) But for some reason, I decided to give Tony a chance. He made me laugh which given all of the nonsense I had been through with my previous boyfriend- laughter was a TREAT.

Still- there was mystery. Tony hid the fact that his ex-wife was still living in his home from me for months… until I got a phone call at 4am with her SCREAMING at me on the phone, calling me a homewrecker (yes, they were already divorced, but that wasn’t about to stop her!!) Tony hid the fact that he had children from me… he also hid the fact that he had epilepsy from me- until he had a grand mal seizure while visiting me. Ahhh, the mystery!!! But once Tony realized that I could “handle the truth” things got better.

But we kept going and finally to make our relationship a permanent one and Tony joined me in the United States. He faced the same struggles anyone would to a new place. He struggled to find a job. He struggled to learn to look the correct way when crossing the street. We developed the following phrase: Looking Right Get a Fright, Looking Left = No Death. He struggled to understand people- especially people on the public transportation system. One day he came home and said (and say with a British Accent:) “Darling, I heard the phrase “white boy” on the bus today, do you think they were speaking about me?” I told him that as he was the whitest man in America, it was a safe bet. Tony acclimated to the United States fairly quickly, and we were married on a Friday evening in our apartment, by a Justice of the Peace in Coke Bottle Glasses who was older than dirt and her equally ancient Husband.

As time went by, Tony racked up quite an array of interesting tales- meeting various friends and finding his first job in the US. We moved out of our studio apartment and into a two bedroom apartment within walking distance of the pubs. We put on a wedding in October 2005, our friends conceived their first child on our living room floor- good times, good times. In June of 2006, we decided to buy a house and start a family. Within two months we had adopted two dogs to complete our little family.

One classic Tony Tale is him cleaning the bathroom. We bought one of the Scrubbing Bubbles machines that you hit the button and it sprays some kind of cleanser around the shower. It *helps* keep the shower clean, but it does not truly clean the shower. One weekend we were having guests and I was going over a list with Tony as to what we needed to do before our guests arrive- which Tony never feels like we need to do anything for guests. Clean up? Nah. Vaccum? Nah So he gets a little hot under the collar when I make him do stuff for company. So, one of the items on the list was: Clean the Bathroom. To which Tony replied “I already cleaned the bathroom.”

I said, suspiciously, “You did?” knowing full well that Tony has not cleaned a bathroom since he left England, and maybe never did before he left England.

Tony said “Yes, I clean the bathroom every morning.”

I thought for a moment and said “Wait a minute. You aren’t considering pushing that button in the shower to be ‘Cleaning the bathroom’ are you?”

“Yes.”

Ugh.

I could continue to regale you with Tales of Tony, but this isn’t supposed to be a note to make fun of him, it’s supposed to be a Valentine.

Tony picked up his entire life, gave up everything he knew and everything familiar to him to move to another country to be with me. ME!?!?! This might make him a little crazy, but it also makes him really wonderful. He gave up everything because he felt that I could make him happy. I was used to boyfriends who would barely pick up a telephone and this amazing man picked up his entire life to love me and to be loved in return. While we have a great deal of laughter and a little bit of fighting, in general we get along very, very well and I could not ask for a better, more loving companion than my Tony. He is the son my father never had, a helping hand to friends in need and a source of endless laughter to me. So while due to the economy, this Valentine’s Day will be pretty lean- I wanted to do something kind and loving for my husband. So I will put out this blog and let him sleep in on Saturday, let him watch The Military Channel all day without interruption or complaint. I love my “Poor Tony” more than I would have thought I was capable of loving anyone. And I know I am loved in return. Sometimes he makes grand gestures and sometimes it’s unspoken…I know I am loved when he prepares the coffee pot to go on automatically for when I leave for work at 6am. I know I am loved by the way he butters a piece of toast for me- he spreads the butter ALL THE WAY to the edge. He cares for me when I’m sick- he tells me I’m not fat. Yes, he’s delusional, but he makes me smile every day. Every. Single. Day.

What more could a girl ask for?

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