of things that matter most

"Huh."

At his outburst, I looked over at Bryson, who was sorting through some incoming emails he had recently received.

Seeing my quizzical look, he quickly elaborated.

"It looks like I just won a pair of tickets to the Jazz-Kings game."

We were both excited about the good luck that had come to us.  A night out on the town sounded like a great idea to me.  After a chaotic last month, a fun date night in the city seemed like just the ticket.  Then, scanning the rest of the information, he suddenly stopped.

"Oh.  Well, that's not going to work."

The upcoming game was scheduled for Saturday night.
The very same evening as Reilly's dance academy's production of Alice in Wonderland.   

I studied his reaction, wondering how he would take the news.
But there was not even a moment's hesitation before he made up his mind as to what he would do.

"Well, I think I'll give them to the Hyers.  They're really big Jimmer fans, after all.  I bet they would have a great time at the game."

And that was that.  

Saturday evening came, and found Bryson sitting not in the Energy Solutions Arena, but in our small town's high school auditorium.  While the NBA pros battled it out on the court, he was otherwise occupied-- watching the cutest little bunny in all of Wonderland perform her little heart out.

Reilly never knew that her daddy had chosen her over the free tickets.  And really, there was no need.  Because, in Bryson's mind, there was only one real choice to be made.  Nothing was more important than his little girl.  She was the star worth seeing.

I've thought a lot about his simple, easy decision over the weekend, and every time I do I have been filled with such a deepened love for this wonderful man I am blessed to walk beside each and every day.  When I married him, I didn't think there was any possible way I could love him more.

I was wrong.  So very wrong.

I am so grateful to have such a man as the father to our children.
In my opinion, attending a little girl's ballet recital was the very definition of true manhood.

Later that evening after the recital, I found Bryson listening to the final minutes of the game on the radio.

"So," I asked, "are you disappointed you couldn't be there tonight?"

He smiled.

"I was exactly where I wanted to be tonight."

True manhood, indeed.