Love

I love men. I love them when they are trying to be macho and slip and fall, then get up and act like it was meant to turn out that way. I love how they come up when you are struggling with fixing something and get involved, the pipes break, and water spews everywhere and it's all much worse now. I love how they laugh and slap each other on the back very hard, then do it again harder like it's now a contest to see who can hit the hardest.
I love how they will not ask for directions because they just cannot be wrong in front of a woman. I love how they open the door for you, even though you are completely capable of opening it yourself. I love how excited they get when they find out they are going to be a daddy, hiding the tears in their eyes because they have such profound love deep inside it just squeezes out. I love how they pay for dinner and buy flowers and chocolates, then silently pray you will not eat them because they really want you to stay skinny. I love how they lay around on Saturday, watching sports on tv, yelling at their team and cheering like this is a life altering event. I love how they kiss, how they hold me tight and make me feel safe.

I love watching men work.
They are focused, determined and quite efficient sometimes. I like watching a group of men work. It's all that above times ten. I love listening to them keep the distance from each other, yet knowing the score and when to step in and do something. I love it when they hurt and stand stoically by as someone else gets to cry. I love how they do not wish to disappoint people and silently take a beating because someone is depending on them. I love how they have big strong arms that can move large objects around again, and again, and again, until it is just right, never complaining because it will make you happy. I love how they will get angry and then not know how to say sorry because they love you too much and they wonder why on earth you are still there with them.

I love men who dig in the dirt, who are computer geeks, and owners of companies.
They are God's in training. They are about the be in charge of creating worlds and making sure everything runs smoothly and on time, without any kind of dress rehearsal available. I imagine a potential God, putting his head together with some buddies, shuffling through pages and pages of diagrams, ideas, and models, trying to come up with the perfect plan on how to do this. I can see them, finally, getting things going and the half-hugs as things work out right, and the cheers and words of congratulations. I can imagine how gratifying it will be for them to be in that moment.

And then I see his wife walking up, interrupting the moment. Suddenly no one else matters but her.
She is his life. His purpose. His everything. She is why he works so hard to make things so perfect. She is why he struggles and thinks so hard about what he needs to do. She is his ultimate goal and meaning in life. When she looks out over his new creation, he needs her approval. He needs her joy and appreciation. He needs her to say, “Well done.” Nothing any guy could say will ever compare to those simple words from his eternal companion. If she complains, points out imperfections, or lists the things not yet done, she has broken something deep inside of him which is most tender. And now all joy is gone for him.

There is no shame in seeing what is good in another person. I for one and grateful to the men in my life who do so much for me. It is probably imperfect, but so is my cooking and cleaning sometimes. My dear fellows, I love you, I admire you, I respect you. You should stand up and take a bow. You deserve a standing ovation for your labors. I truly love men. And it makes me a greater woman to be able to admit it.