Today is Ladd’s birthday, and I was thinking about all the hats he wears.
He wears a cowboy hat. Quite literally, yes, but also figuratively. He runs his own ranch and is constantly considering his livestock, the care of his land, the markets, and the many other factors that go into an agricultural operation. This alone makes me tired to think about. It ain’t easy.
He wears the hat of husband and helper—which, in our relationship, is no small feat. I guess I require a lot of help? Ha. And he’s so good at it—not just helping me, but also knowing when I need the help before I ever have to ask. I don’t know how he manages to know. But he just seems to be there, helping, before I have the conscious thought that I need it. And it’s in every possible category—there are too many to name.
He wears the hat of father. I listen to him as he talks to Alex and Paige, whether they’re home visiting or calling from school. When I’m with the girls, or talking on the phone to the girls, it’s sometimes frivolous, newsy, and scattered. Or we watch pimple popping videos on YouTube or something. But to Ladd, it’s like he recognizes that conversations shouldn’t be squandered. He talks to them about the whats and the whys and the what-ifs. He smiles brighter when they’re around. He loves those girls.
With the boys, it’s a little different. He loves them and all, but his time with them is relatively abundant, day in and day out. So it’s less about diving into deep conversations and more about giving of his time to facilitate their sports and interests and all that he knows is important to two boys growing up on a ranch, because he was one once. During the times I want to throw up my hands and declare a ban on all sports because of the time commitment and transportation challenges, Ladd is quietly, steadily making sure they get to everything on time.
“Can’t we all just stay home and pop popcorn in our pajamas and watch a movie?”
“Sure, honey. As soon as their practice is over.”
“But can’t they just skip practice?”
“Sure, honey. As soon as their practice is over.”
He wears the hat of son. My father-in-law experienced an illness after my mother-in-law died, and it required an aggressive treatment. (He’s fine now!) Ladd sat with him, visited with him, watched football games with him, made sure he wasn’t facing the days alone. And now that PaPa is home and getting better, Ladd still goes to see him, sit with him, visit with him, watch football games with him. He takes the time. He’s a good son.
There are other hats my husband wears on any given day, but those are the ones that I see most clearly. The ones that make me realize how lucky we are to have him.
Happy birthday, honey! I love your chaps.
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