This chapter of my story might actually be a love story, not my recovery – but in all honestly, he’s been part of my recovery since the day we met, just in a different context.

And by now you know I like to hold onto the positive things in life – flipping the scary and negative into something manageable and bite-sized. Sometimes I think of it as my superpower, a small reframing that helps me live in the moment.

But this story is about someone else’s superpower.

Love.

My husband Glenn.

This is my second go-round in the arena of marriage. My first deserves a respectful pause. He loved me in his way and gave me my two incredible boys, and for that I will always be grateful.

But our love didn’t grow together. Life happened. We grew apart – especially after my mother passed away. That loss changed me, and I found myself walking away from parts of my life that kept me feeling stuck.

The chapter that followed was a learning one. I had to unlearn what love looked like after a relationship that slowly tore down my confidence and left me feeling smaller than I knew I was meant to be.

And then I met Glenn.

Wowza. I hit the jackpot.

Love is my husband’s superpower.

Looking back over the past few months of this journey, I realize I had to rewrite one of my own habits. I am fiercely independent. I go to appointments alone. I handle things myself. That had always been my norm.

But this time I had a partner who truly embodied that word.

And I had to learn to make space for him to love me the way he needs to love me. I will admit, sometimes I am not great at that. But I recognize now how important it is in our story.

He has been part of this decision from the very beginning. He has come to every appointment, even the ones that felt uncomfortable simply because they were unfamiliar territory.

Slowly I leaned into the maturity of being in a marriage where I both should and want my husband beside me for everything. When I look back at that growth, I am proud of it.

Because when this surgery came, I needed every ounce of strength he could provide.

At my first surgical consult he had just as many questions as I did, maybe more. He even shed a few tears when the doctor described the procedure. He was a second pair of ears when I mentally tuned out the hard parts.

From day one, he was all in – not just on the surgery decision, but I think on our first date, he was all in.

He is living out the in sickness and in health part of our wedding vows.

And somewhere in the middle of all this, I have fallen even more in love with him.

I have always been proud to call him my husband, but the depth of love he has for me is something you can almost feel in the room.

During my recovery I sent a quick note to my mother-in-law. I simply wanted her to know how incredible her son has been through this whole journey and to thank her for raising such a kind and compassionate man.

She wrote back with a story I had never heard before.

When Glenn was two years old he had a terrible stomach bug and had been throwing up all night. She had him in the bathroom leaning over the toilet and held a cool washcloth on his forehead until he felt better. Eventually they both went back to bed.

The next night she came down with the same bug.

She was in the bathroom throwing up when Glenn – all of two years old – wandered in. Without saying a word he walked over to the side of the tub, picked up the washcloth, and gently placed it on her forehead.

Apparently compassion has been his instinct since he was two.

And honestly, that tracks if you’ve ever met my husband.

Some people are simply wired to take care of others, and I am incredibly lucky one of them married me.

When I married Glenn, I also gained something I did not fully appreciate at the time – a beautiful support system. His parents are just as kind – his mother is so loving, and generous. It is easy to see where he learned it – the nurture part of his equation is strong.

Through this entire experience he has simply been there.

He held me after my first shower and let me sob. No fixing. No rushing me through it. Just holding me.

He is the pinnacle of what every husband should strive to be. It is humbling, and I feel incredibly lucky.

I hope I never have to return this particular favor for him, simply because I never want him to hurt the way I do right now. But I would without hesitation.

This man prepared himself for this chapter in ways I did not even fully realize.

And I say us intentionally. While this surgery happened to my body, he has been carrying part of this journey right beside me. He has been thinking about ways to comfort me, ways to nourish me, ways to quietly support me.

Through my fuzzy hospital moments I remember looking over and seeing him trying to rest in that awful hospital chair.

My heart swelled. I could feel myself loving him even more.

And I remember thinking how lucky I was that the person who loves me most was sitting right there beside me.

In that moment it hit me. This is what real love looks like.

He held my hand like an otter – tightly so we would not drift apart in my sea of melancholy and loss.

The second pair of steady hands that carried me through this chapter.

Since we have been home, he has dressed me. He has cleaned my drains. He has rubbed my aching back after hours of surgery in one position. He has made more trips to the store than I can count and carried pillows and blankets up and down the stairs. He has cooked meals.

And yes, you knew it was coming. He has made me three flavors of Jell-O and delivered snacks on demand.

He has looked at my surgical site. He has seen me at my most vulnerable and responded with nothing but love and patience.

So right now I lean on him to be my rock. I let him look and reassure me that everything will be okay.

And I know it will be.

Because this journey has made our love stronger.

When I think back to my growing list of blessings from this life change, this one might sit right at the top.

Turns out my superpower might be reframing the hard things.

But his superpower is love.

And when life gets hard, that might just be the greatest strength of all.