Ever since she first met him, Amy Krouse Rosenthal knew she wanted to spend a lifetime with Jason. Now 51 years old– and after 26 years of marriage– Amy is realizing that a lifetime may not be as long as she’d expected. On September 5, 2015, Amy was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Jason has stood by her side through their painful journey, but Amy knows now her time is coming to an end.
On Friday, the New York Times published an essay for their popular “Modern Love” column written by Amy. The essay, titled “You May Want to Marry My Husband” is written like a letter to Jason’s future suitors. Amy wants Jason to find love again after she’s gone, so her letter acts as a dating profile for Jason, explaining why you may want to marry him.
I have been trying to write this for a while, but the morphine and lack of juicy cheeseburgers (what has it been now, five weeks without real food?) have drained my energy and interfered with whatever prose prowess remains. Additionally, the intermittent micronaps that keep whisking me away midsentence are clearly not propelling my work forward as quickly as I would like. But they are, admittedly, a bit of trippy fun.
Still, I have to stick with it, because I’m facing a deadline, in this case, a pressing one. I need to say this (and say it right) while I have a) your attention, and b) a pulse.
I have been married to the most extraordinary man for 26 years. I was planning on at least another 26 together.
Amy goes on to explain how– on the day their youngest child left for college, leaving them official empty-nesters– she received an earth-shattering diagnosis. All of her future plans immediately melted away, and the only thoughts of the future she had left were of Jason’s future. That said, she wants his future to be full of love, maybe love from the reader of this letter.
Allow me to introduce you to the gentleman of this article, Jason Brian Rosenthal.
He is an easy man to fall in love with. I did it in one day.
She met Jason on a blind date and, ” had precisely zero expectations about this going anywhere,” she said. “[But] by the end of dinner, I knew I wanted to marry him.”
That’s when Amy launches into her “dating profile” for Jason.
I have never been on Tinder, Bumble or eHarmony, but I’m going to create a general profile for Jason right here, based on my experience of coexisting in the same house with him for, like, 9,490 days.
The following list of attributes is in no particular order because everything feels important to me in some way.
He is a sharp dresser. Our young adult sons, Justin and Miles, often borrow his clothes. Those who know him — or just happen to glance down at the gap between his dress slacks and dress shoes — know that he has a flair for fabulous socks. He is fit and enjoys keeping in shape.
If our home could speak, it would add that Jason is uncannily handy. On the subject of food — man, can he cook. After a long day, there is no sweeter joy than seeing him walk in the door, plop a grocery bag down on the counter, and woo me with olives and some yummy cheese he has procured before he gets to work on the evening’s meal.
Jason loves listening to live music; it’s our favorite thing to do together. I should also add that our 19-year-old daughter, Paris, would rather go to a concert with him than anyone else.
Amy lists more of Jason’s wonderful qualities. He’s a wonderful father, he’s compassionate, he is a lawyer but also loves to paint… the list goes on. He even surprises Amy and brightens her day with small, heartfelt gestures.
This is a man who emerges from the minimart or gas station and says, “Give me your palm.” And, voilà, a colorful gumball appears. (He knows I love all the flavors but white.)
My guess is you know enough about him now. So let’s swipe right.
Wait. Did I mention that he is incredibly handsome? I’m going to miss looking at that face of his.
But as much as Amy clearly loves raving about her precious husband, there’s a deeper meaning to all of this.
I want more time with Jason. I want more time with my children… I probably have only a few days left being a person on this planet. So why I am doing this?
I am wrapping this up on Valentine’s Day, and the most genuine, non-vase-oriented gift I can hope for is that the right person reads this, finds Jason, and another love story begins.
I’ll leave this intentional empty space below as a way of giving you two the fresh start you deserve.
With all my love, Amy