Him. I first met my husband through a life changing trial he had to face as a 16 year old boy. We connected through his tears, through his broken heart. Today is our 8 year anniversary, but we’ve been together for 12.
It’s crazy to me to think about how our relationship started. I always joke about how our story needs to be written in a book and then made into a movie It’s just that good, that emotional. He gets a little embarrassed when I tell our story. He’s humble like that, and doesn’t really talk about his football anymore. Ruben was the talk of our high school before I met him personally. He was the star athlete. He even still has a plaque on the wall there with a record no one has yet broke. He was the sophomore in high school who played varsity football and had colleges frequently sending him letters for his consideration to play for them. One game he got hit and could no longer feel his body. The doctors told him he couldn’t play football anymore, or he would risk being paralyzed from the neck down, he was diagnosed with spinal stenosis. His coaches even paid for specialists to give more opinions. His dreams were shattered, and as a first generation American he thought that football was his only way to go to college.
After every game his team played the next year I sat with him as he sobbed with his face in his hands. If you have met him after this experience you probably don’t know much about it, if anything at all. He doesn’t talk about it, about playing football . I sometimes forget that the silence is because it still hurts. I sometimes forget that even though he knows football is not everything in life, he still has a longing for it. We moved to Vegas a year ago and the first thing he bought for his office was a couple of nice football statues. When I saw them in his office, I started crying, realizing again how much he loves that game, how much he misses it. Of course he never spoke to me about the statues. I just noticed them quietly and silently show up on his shelves.
If you worked for Ruben this past year, you probably wouldn’t know that while others were constantly coming to him with problems during work, and calling multiple times outside of the office, he was leaving the office to come home to a messy house, a wife who could barely function, and the responsibilities of not only providing, but for cleaning, cooking and putting the three little girls to sleep without help. I watched his face in his hands again frequently this past year, only this time it was because he was sitting up in the middle of the night watching his wife scream in pain and experience panic attacks.
He’s a quiet fighter. That’s who he is and who he has always been. Always working hard. Always trying his best. Always serving without any desire for recognition. A humble giant. I don’t know how I got so lucky to call him mine. I don’t know why he chooses me over and over again even though I’m hard to live with. I don’t know why he is so patient with me. I don’t know why he so quietly stays up late to put the girls to bed and clean the house when I knock out early, instead of waking me up to help. I don’t know why I was lucky enough to be the only girl he has ever kissed, but man I’m sure glad I get to call him mine. Thank you Ruben for being an example of someone who quietly serves, loves and fights. Happy Anniversary babe.
