This is Blair, Miranda’s husband. I am highjacking her blog today. I figured somebody better write on it since she doesn’t anymore!

I love her so much that describing it to her, to you, or to anyone seems like an impossible task. How can I describe something so deep as my feelings for this woman using something so inadequate as mere words? No matter how much I say, I know that I will leave something unsaid.

I love how even when I have seen some of the most incredible sites in the world (Stonehenge, the Tower of London, the Eiffel Tower, the Cathedral of Notre Dame, la Sagrada Familia, the Sistine Chapel), they all seemed empty because she was not there to share the experience with me.

I love that she has encouraged me to travel, though she didn’t want to go.

I love how she knows me, even better than I know myself. When all is wrong in my world, as it some days seems to be, being held by her is the safest place to be.

I love how she still laughs at stories she has heard a thousand times, even if she does give me a hard time for telling the same stories over and over.

I love how she is the one I think of whenever a love song comes on the radio.

I love how she pretends that I am her knight in shining armor, even though most days I feel like the king’s fool.

I love how when she is playing around and goofing off with me, she sometimes speaks in a little girl’s voice. For a split second, I see her as a little girl that I never knew.

I love how she shares my life with me. Good and bad, she is there. She makes the bad a little bit less so by dividing it with me, and she makes the good better by multiplying it.

I love how she says, “We’ll see,” even though she knows I am going to harass her by responding “We’ll see means ‘No!’”

I love the fact that twelve years later, she is still my bride and not just my wife.

I love how sometimes in the middle of the night, she reaches out just to touch me.

I love the fact that she is mine. Of all the men in the world, she chose me. She still does.

I love that she is the last person I see at night and the first person I see in the morning.

I love how she holds my hand, lays her head on my shoulder, and hugs me back.

I love that I would rather be doing anything with her than anything without her.

I love how no gift she ever gives me will ever compare to the gift she has given me of herself.

I love that she is a better mother to our girls than I could dream of.

I love that she makes regular coffee instead of flavored coffee because she knows I prefer the regular. She prefers the flavored.

I love that she makes our house a home.

I love that she is constantly trying new things and trying to improve herself.

I love her sarcasm, though I don’t like to admit it.

I love the way she makes me whole.

I love her eyes, and I could get lost in them for days.

I love her handwriting.

I love her.