I love winter.  There are few things I like more than late night walks in the cold or rain.  I respond to snow the way Sawyer responds when someone new walks in the door...I even pee a little. 

My favorite time of the day in the winter comes at about 2:30am.  This is when I lay down.  Although I won't go to sleep for another hour or so I usually lay in bed and read or watch a movie on my portable dvd player.  This, however, is not what makes this time my favorite.

It is that moment that I lay in bed after I have gone for a late night walk (usually barefoot or in sandals).  I climb under the covers and wait (usually only moments) for Kristan to roll over towards me in response to my movement.  It is then she comes in contact with my hands and feet. 

Oh she makes the cutest noises!  She will ball up some and ramble something about me sticking my hands in the freezer.  Every now and then I have to dodge a reflex elbow coming my way.  I love this.

Maybe, just maybe, this is has deeper meaning...

My parents are divorced.  Every memory I have of them together is a forced and cold relationship.  I can't remember them ever holding hands.  I've never seen them kiss.  No tender moments (except one 4 second one that I accidently saw on a video that I thought was Garfield and Friends but turned out to be something very different, and not funny at all.)

And every relationship I have ever had lacked enduring intimacy.  Every girl I have ever dated either got bored with me or I got bored with them.  Although touch isnt exactly my love language there have been times when I got the message of lack of love loud and clear.

Finally, I married a girl who, by all measure, is out of my league.  I remember the day after Kristan and I got together telling a friend, "yesterday, she didnt; but today, she does!"  This is a line from the movie "Roxanne" when Steve Martin's physically unattractive character believes he just won over a beautiful woman he was infatuated with.  Every day of the last three years has been a reminder of how blessed I have been. 

So I touch her with my freezing hands and feet, and she ceases to be the resting woman in my bed and again becomes this responsive love of my life.  She feels my touch the way my mom never felt my dads.  She still responds to me when others by this point were through with me.  And, her noises remind me she is still, in fact, there; when she could be gone.  She has stayed with me like no one ever has.  I touch her because it reminds me.  I touch her because I love her...

or maybe I'm just mean...

I would explore that thought some, but I think I am going to go cuddle with my wife...after a brisk walk.