This morning began in the usual way: hitting the snooze roughly 14 times, quick shower because I overslept and rushing out the door with my coffee and on the road to work all within 30 minutes of getting out of bed. I took my exit and after the first stop light realized that something was not right with the Tahoe. It seemed to be hesitating when I accelerated and a faint grinding noise was coming from the vicinity of the transmission. I pulled off the road about a block from the hospital and called Trevor to see what I should do. I was afraid to park in the underground garage in case the truck needed to be towed.
He told me he would be there in a few minutes, so I called my manager and then settled back to wait. I wasn't in any distress and the weather was incredibly nice, but the sight of Trevor turning into the parking lot still made my heart skip with joy. I knew that once he arrived, everything would be okay even if the Tahoe was not drivable. He was there to take care of it.
He checked a few things, tried to drive it and then decided to call AAA to tow the truck to a repair shop. He made the call, got out and dealt with the tow truck driver, drove us to the repair shop and then handled all the details regarding the Tahoe. Guess what I did? I sat in the comfort of the heated passenger seat and read a book on my iPad, completely secure in the knowledge that Trevor had everything under control. I drove him to work, and then took his truck back to the hospital.
It's a simple story with no real drama or stress (besides the fact that we were both two hours late for work), but it illustrates the kind of husband with whom I have been blessed. He never complains or thinks of himself when I need him. He comes directly to my aid, and makes sure that I'm taken care of. He always has my back, even when it is inconvenient for him or involves doing something that he dislikes. He makes me feel safe and cherished every day of my life, and for that I am thankful.