And I thought I would never get anything out of fantasy fiction...

For Christmas, my husband requested, and I dutifully purchased, The Lord of the Rings: The Motion Picture Trilogy, Extended Edition. Over the holidays and weekends that followed, he managed to work his way through all three movies. As I had time, I sat down and watched snippets with him. And they are fantastic movies, though I admit it grudgingly. You see, I am not, and never have been, much of a fantasy or sci-fi fan. In fact, when it comes to fantasy and sci-fi, I am the very opposite of a nerd, because I see absolutely nothing wrong with this picture:

However, LOTR is different... it's such downright good storytelling that it sucks me in. So yesterday I was recalling a scene from the movie--the climax to the whole shebang, when Frodo and Sam are trudging up the side of Mt. Doom, finally getting around to destroying the ring. By this time in the "Extended Edition" we have been hanging out with these hobbits for seven or eight hours and we are almost as exhausted as they are as we watch them try to finish their quest. Yet, the scene is still captivating and even heart-rending as Sam hoists Frodo onto his back and says, "I can't carry the ring, Mr. Frodo, but I can carry you." (Or something like that--I'm not a perfectionist when it comes to movie quotes. Don't judge.)

I love that scene. It always makes me tear up.

A decade or so ago I received a copy of The Hobbit as a birthday gift. The friend who gave it to me (a Tolkien fan) wrote on the flyleaf, "May you find your Strider." At the time, I didn't get it. I had never read the book and had never seen any of the movies; in fact, only the first movie in the trilogy had been released. (And yes, this was in the dark ages.)

I realized yesterday that, while I now get the Strider reference, I don't agree with it. To be sure, Aragorn is brave and loyal and humble and honest and admirable. A true hero by anyone's definition. But I never really wanted a hero. Even in my late teens and early twenties when life was confusing and I had my fair share of relationship drama, I never wanted a Strider. I didn't want a handsome prince to come riding in on a white steed and sweep me off my feet. Instead, I hoped for a soulmate, someone who would stick by me even at my worst moments and love me no matter what.

So I had an epiphany yesterday: I wanted a Sam.

Sam is not the most polished guy, or the best looking, or the heir to any throne. He never wanted glory and fame and adventure. He just wanted a quiet, simple life in the Shire with his sweetheart, Rosie. But when his friend needed him, Sam never looked back. He fought his way through more horrors than any of the rest of the Fellowship. He endured not only the curse of the ring on himself, but he took on Frodo's torment as well. And when Frodo could bear it no longer, Sam hoisted Frodo on his back and carried him--uphill, by the way.

That's the kind of guy I wanted. And happily, that's the kind of guy I got. Of course, when I shared this epiphany with Dan last night on one of our rare date nights, he wasn't exactly flattered to be cast as Sam rather than Strider. Strider is--well, for starters, taller than 3.5 feet. And Strider has mad sword-fighting skills and sexy hair. But all of those things are superficial, as is Sam's shortness and his chubby, awkward exterior. What I hoped for and dreamed of, though I didn't know it back then, was to marry a Sam-at-heart.

Reader, I married one. And as a bonus, I happen to think he's plenty handsome. ;) Plus, he doesn't have a problem with chronically committing himself to lost causes.

Yep, I'm a pretty lucky girl.