I came home late one evening this week to find a man’s legs protruding from my attic crawl space, feet planted squarely on the top rung of a step ladder.

This was a whole man of course, and he did belong to me. It was my husband Mike securing our nest against the changing season. He was working quietly while the rest of the house slumbered, all peacefully unaware of his efforts.

Since I don’t appreciate him nearly as much as I should, this post is dedicated especially to him. I need to brag on him a little bit every now and then.

Mike is my own personal handyman.

He’s a flooring installer by trade, but can build anything just by watching someone else do it once. He has remodeled three (going on four) houses doing everything himself; rewiring each top to bottom, replacing windows and roofs, installing new siding, building new garages, and creating rooms that previously didn’t exist.

He can also fix anything.

I’ve never had to pay to have my washer fixed (it needed fixing just this week), my toilet unclogged, ruptured pipes repaired, or a new ice maker installed.

And, he cleans.

Most nights he can be found in the kitchen scrubbing crusted leftovers from discarded dishes. He’s my housekeeper when hosting parties, making sure the house is presentable for our guests and cleaning up after the fun. He even vacuums! I can’t tell you the last time I pushed a vacuum myself.

Yeah, you should be jealous!

He isn’t completely perfect though. He rarely works on my timeline, he’s lured away from home by his “mistress” (golf) on most fine days and some not-so-fine ones as well, and he goes quite deaf when his nose is in the TV or his tablet (miraculously, he has bionic hearing when you’re whispering complaints about him to your sister two floors down and three rooms away).

But…I guess I can excuse his faults in light of all his other impressive skills.

Mike and I took the short cut to family life and it’s been a roller coaster journey ever since. At 18 and 20 we barely new ourselves, let alone each other.

By the grace of God, we’re still facing life together even though we sometimes have to drag the other along. We continue to learn about each other and how to love one another. It’s a lot of work; sometimes easy, most of the time hard.

I have to admit, that so far it’s been worth it.

Twenty-eight years ago, we committed to make the most of a life neither of us planned, and with each changing phase, my handyman keeps working tirelessly to make our house a beautiful home.

Love you Handyman!