My Husband, the Ultimate Concierge By Susan “Honey” Good As I stare out the window of our American flight from Panama to Scottsdale on our way to our grandson Michael’s high school graduation, I begin to think of the next important family occasion. It is my husband, Shelly’s birthday, June 4.As I continue my thoughts, “What will I buy ‘my special guy’?” I suddenly feel his hand take my mine and give me ‘our hand signal’… 7 short squeezes. The message, ‘I love you with all my heart.’ And he truly does, darlings.He releases my hand, only after I reciprocate with 7 squeezes, and goes back to reading his book on the Mexican cartel and I take out my laptop to share with you darlings, one of the lovely secrets of our marriage.I have my very own private concierge!Do I require one? What darling wouldn’t!My husband, Shelly, should be awarded, Concierge of the Year! I kid you not! If he applied with ten other applicants for the position of head concierge at the famous George V Hotel or The Ritz in Paris I have no doubt he would be the winner! My husband’s middle name, darlings, is ‘caretaker’! And I am the recipient!One day I laughingly commented to a close friend, “I am so lucky. Shelly helps me with everything, even when I don’t ask. I have my own private concierge!”She replied, “Wait a while! You haven’t been married long enough. You eventually will get tired of that and one day roar like a lioness!”Have I roared?No way, darlings! How can you roar at a husband whose middle name is ‘caretaker’?He has been my concierge since we married. When he was working full time as the CEO of his company he still had time to engage in my life, nonstop! Now he is working less, so can you imagine, darlings, the services he provides!For starters, he prepares and serves me my first cup of coffee, in my French flowered coffee cup, in bed, each morning. He says he makes the best coffee! He books our dinner reservations last minute, because he knows everyone knows his name. He walks Orchid, our pooch, each night, keeping me out of harm’s way. He was my Florence Nightingale when I broke my ankle and I swear, darlings, never complained for 6 months! He is my personal driver because I like it that way! I am not a wife who ever says, “I’ll drive!” He responds to all my requests, taking care of my deliverables: gifts, flowers, premium theatre tickets, travel arrangements and he pays all my expenses! He resolves and remedies all my problems and would never forget to open my car door!Quite frankly, now that he is not working as hard, I sometimes feel he has ownership over my life because I have not begun to fill you in on ‘everything’ my ultimate concierge does for me!Do I always like it this way?There are occasions, that I do have to bite my tongue! And there are other occasions I cannot keep quiet and I will say with a half smile, “Why do you have to be so involved in my life? Why do you do everything for me?”His answer is always, the same. And, darlings, I always melt… He looks up at me with his blue eyes and says, “Because I care.”And, it is true, he does!I just read him this story because…I read him most of my stories because he tells me to change a sentence, a word or a thought! In today’s story, my ultimate concierge told me my grandson’s name Michael should not have an apostrophe! He listens so closely … he cares.When I finish reading he says with a chuckle, “It is my pleasure being your ultimate concierge because you reward me with the ultimate payment…you care!”I smile. I decide I am going to frame this story and give it to him for his birthday. I close my laptop; stare out the airplane window …And darlings, that is why I told you he would make the perfect hotel concierge. He truly cares.Share this: