Proud that he’s my husband | PostIndependent.com

Proud that he’s my husband

Fried Rice, by Rifle Citizen Telegram editor Heidi Rice, was a longtime fixture of the Post Independent in the past. It has resumed in the Citizen Telegraph and will appear irregularly in the PI, but regularly on Postindependent.com.

Sometimes you think you know somebody so well and then they do something that just makes your jaw drop.

Typically in this column, I have fun with Husband-Head’s antics that revolve around football and our family life.

But this past Saturday night, Husband-Head really blew my mind.

I was working at my computer in my office, which used to be the dining room, but which Husband-Head thought would be much nicer as an office with a fireplace and French doors going out to the patio.

And when the curtains in the front window are open, you can see me from the street.

And that’s what a little Chinese girl did on Saturday evening.

She knocked on the window, scaring me, and I motioned for her to go to the front door. I also called out to Husband-Head on the intercom to come in because I didn’t know who this person was or what she wanted.

She couldn’t speak English very well, but she relayed that she was in trouble and had to get out of Rifle. She needed to get a flight from Denver to a relative’s house.

I could tell she was very upset and I put my arms around her and gave her a hug and tried to comfort her. Then she began to sob. And sob.

Husband-Head came out and took charge of the situation.

Turns out, she needed to get paid from her employer in Rifle, so Husband-Head drove her to her work place, made sure she got paid and drove her home. She hardly even knew where she “lived.”

She and Husband-Head texted back and forth and made plans for him to take her to the Hotel Colorado in Glenwood Springs the next morning to catch the Colorado Mountain Express van to Denver to get a flight.

The next morning, Husband-Head got up at 5 a.m. to get ready to drive a girl he did not even know to Glenwood to catch the Colorado Mountain Express van to Denver.

“I wonder if I should stop at McDonald’s to make sure she has something to eat,” he said before leaving.

I was starting to realize that Husband-Head was probably one of the nicest people I had ever known.

The 20-something-year-old girl had given us her name as “Mary Lo,” but we would later find out that wasn’t even close to her real name. All we really knew about her was that her family was in China and that she had relatives in Pennsylvania.

When Husband-Head came home, he said she told him her mother was a registered nurse in China. Then she texted him and said she got a flight to Los Angeles.

“Ummm…that’s, like, the completely wrong direction,” I said to Husband-Head in horror. “Good Lord, what’s going to happen to her there?”

“Well, she said she also knows people in L.A.,” Husband-Head said.

And then he gave me a small canvas oil painting of a beautiful flower.

“She said to give this to ‘Miss Heidi,’” he said. “A friend of hers painted it. I think it was all she had.”

Big tears welled up in my eyes.

“Mary Lo” or whatever her name was, not only got herself out of her bad situation in Rifle, but she made a difference in my marriage and how I look at Husband-Head.

We all know he’s funny and that he’s a die-hard Packer’s fan. He’s been in my column, he’s been in my book and he was featured on Dateline NBC.

But you know what?

He’s really a damn nice guy. And I’m very proud that he’s my husband.


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