10th
:)
I was standing in my small apartment kitchen, pouring water into my coffee when I heard my husband’s keys scratching the lock. He was coming home after a night shift at Jacobi’s ER roughly thirty minutes after I had woken up. I stirred my coffee as he passed me to strip off his “gross hospital clothes.”
“Someone is alive because of me!” he announced and I realized I hadn’t even had the chance to ask him what I always do when he gets home: “Did you save anyone’s life today?”
It excites me that this is our household, that my husband spends his work hours improving and saving strangers’ lives.
I used to think about the kind of home I’d want to raise my children in. An honest home, a home devoted to kindness, trust, love, compassion for others, nurturing to creativity and intellectual pursuits. Now I think about the home my husband and I have—the home in which we will raise our children—and there’s nothing more I could ask for. (Except maybe to have the children, but that’s between me and him.)
