Because I complain about him maybe too much.....

I woke up in mid sob this morning. It's been a very long time since I woke up that way. It happened a lot after I lost Izzy. I would be crying in my dream and wake up sobbing, but not crying. Not the best start to the morning.
And then this morning. I woke up alone. I had just gotten home from Duffy's funeral, and I was holding Maddy's hand and my other arm was wrapped around Abbey, and the kitchen counter was full of food and my mom was there peering into the fridge trying to figure out where there was room. It was a warm sunny day. Spring I think but the background was fuzzy. And I felt numb, dead on the inside and I wanted to change things, I wanted to undo what was done, and I just wanted more time. I wanted him back and I couldn't even say words, I just held on tight to Maddy's hand so I wouldn't be lost but I was.
Then I woke up sobbing and Duffy wasn't there. I sat up, and looked at the clock, and then I could hear him puttering around the house getting ready for work and I could breathe. I wasn't aware that I was holding my breath until I felt it whoosh out. I really wanted to go downstairs and see him, but then I would feel the need to touch him and then I'd end up explaining why and then he'd give me that look. The "oh, just more craziness again" look.
I complain about Duffy, as all wives do. I take time to point out all the things he does wrong and that he does to drive me crazy, and he is quick to point out that he doesn't get credit for all he does. Now, for those of you that know him, you know that he has enough ego to go around, and I like to think that my henpecking keeps him in line but he really is the best husband and father I know.
He loves his girls and all their friends and all the kids he encounters exuberantly, unconditionally and forever. He has a tremendous amount of patience for teaching children things that he knows. He is full of energy and enthusiasm and he's never to tired to do something for someone else.
He irons all of our clothes without complaining. He cooks all the time. He reminds me that the details are dumb and that family is more important than work. He adopts my friends like they're family. He laughs at me when I'm trying to be funny but never when I make an ass of myself. He wears whatever I tell him to for family pictures. He wears pink every Thursday to honor Isabelle. He donates blood every chance he gets. He coaches little girls softball even though he'd much rather play grown-up softball.
I could go on, but I won't. I really can't imagine what I would do without my best friend to talk to every day. I miss him when he's not around, and he's the first person I think of when I have a story to share. I love you, Daniel Patrick Duffy.