April Winchell

Today is a good day.

It’s a good day for many reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that I got this in my email this morning:

And really, that would be enough.

If that was all that was going on over here, I’d be satisfied. I’d say, “Hey world, thanks for the DeWalt!”, and I’d march my ass right back to bed. Because that would be a full and happy day.

But there’s more. Much more.

There’s Mac and Sully, and a dream come true.

Mac is a very loving dog. There are few things she likes more than physical contact, and she never misses an opportunity to curl up with you. If you find yourself sitting on the couch for any length of time, she’ll invariably come over and fall asleep on you.

When our beloved little Dugans Fife was still with us, I harbored the hope that one day, she would just crawl into Mac’s bed with her. That would have made Mac so happy.

It seemed like a reasonable expectation. Dugans was all about comfort, and I figured as soon as she realized hout how warm and soft Mac was, that would be that. She may not have wanted to play with Mac, but the two of them would have many happy naps together.

Yeah. Didn’t happen.

Dugans didn’t roll like that. She wasn’t really convinced that she was a dog, so fraternizing with one was completely distasteful. Dugans wanted to nap with another dog like she wanted her teeth cleaned.

Sully, on the other hand, that’s another story.

Sully seems to like physical contact as much as Mac does. He’s even picked up her habit of sitting on your foot when you’re washing dishes. And since he’s completely in love with her, he wants to be wherever she is.

So sometimes they hang out in her bed,

and sometimes they hang out in his.

And that just makes me really happy.

And here’s something else that makes me happy.

When I stepped on the scale this morning, I saw that I had lost 50 pounds since March. Only 8 more pounds, and I’ll weigh what I did when I was 16.

I’ve been working at this since 2002, and my total lost so far is about 140 pounds. I thought I’d be done by now, but I stalled out pretty badly when I got cancer two years ago.

When you have thyroid cancer, they basically surgically remove your metabolism. You have no function without drugs, and it’s a process to find the right dosage for your body. I actually put about 40 pounds back on while they were figuring it out.

Of course, there was also that trip to Switzerland and Copenhagen, when John and I ate almost nothing but pastry and chocolate for two weeks. That might have been a factor, but hey, I’m not a doctor.

In any case, I finally saw the right doctor and got the right dosage in March, and I was able to get back on track. And now I’m almost there.

So today is a good day, because this part of my life is almost over. Every pound lost feels like another mile, and I now I find myself far away from an unhappy life.

Today is a good day, because I am happy.

Today is my two year anniversary with John. And John has made me very, very happy.

Now, I don’t want to blog about this too much, because people who are happily in love and talk about it tend to induce loathing in others.

But I have to give this a little of my attention, because today is a good day, and I’m so happy to be starting another year with this lovely man.

John has given me everything. He has given me more love than I ever thought anyone could give, and certainly more than I ever thought I would have.

He never misses an opportunity to be kind to me. He makes me feel beautiful and appreciated and special.

He steps up.

He has infinite patience, but he thinks it’s nothing.

He never punishes me. He doesn’t store things up to use later on. He doesn’t secretly hope I fail.

He wants my happiness.

He hates everything I hate.

He’s so strong, and he makes me feel so safe. When he hugs me, his arms go all the way around me, and I feel like noting bad will ever happen.

He cried at the last Harry Potter movie.

He goes to the comic book store every Wednesday and comes home with a little plastic bag full of his favorites. He sits on the couch with the dogs and reads them all in one sitting.

He loves his brothers.

He brings me roses. One time he bought so many, the man at the flower store asked him if he was in trouble.

He is a realist. He is learning how to be a dreamer.

He loves dogs, all dogs. He even takes pictures of other people’s dogs. He’ll point them out and say, “Who’s that guy?”

He always smells like soap.

He sometimes will say something so romantic and loving it will make me gasp.

He makes me laugh. Every single day.

He is the love of my life.