Courage of an ordinary, not so ordinary man

I wrote most of this a while back, but this is an updated version. With his death, everything changed.
 I was thinking that there are many levels of courage. Something that I wish I were, but I'm not.
 I know that there are those who are courageous enough to join the military and risk it all for the land and people they love. They leave everything they have known behind and often go to strange lands in the hopes of doing great things. In the hope of protecting their homeland or those in the lands were they find themselves. They go, because it is their job, their desire, their calling. They will do what they must, to protect and defend the flag, the land, the people they left behind.
 I know there are those who will run into a burning building or face a burning vehicle to rescue those in danger. Once they hear that alarm sound, all else stops and they run to those in need. They run, whether it is a house, car or wildfire burning along the side of a roadway.
 The good  police who are out there to actually serve and protect. Those who work, risking much, to keep communities safe. Those who don body armor and go into the midst of a riot to try and regain peace. Those who not only know how to arrest, but know how to assist in a birth, who know CPR and the Heimlich Maneuver.
 The paramedics who rush to the aid of those in need and see that they get help. With knowledge similar to a doctor's, they work to save lives. They go into dangerous situations, knowing someone needs them.
 Then, there are those like my husband, who, when the place he worked closed its doors, taking away what he was experienced at away, he had to step up and do something different. My husband, who had not traveled much, became well versed in the roadways of this land. My husband, who with a nine to five type job who was home every night, was now rarely home. He not only stepped out of his comfort zone, he was not even in the same county or region of where his comfort zone once was.
 He took on an entirely different way of life and learned and adjusted to, an entirely new lifestyle.
 I respect him for that. No matter how nervous he was about going into something different, he knew he had to try so as to be able to provide for us. My husband, became a long haul truck driver. He had to learn all of the eccentricities of a big rig, he had to learn how to discern which was the quicker route to get from there to there, he had to learn to deal with all manner of people, he had to learn regulations and laws and where the weight stations were. Did I mention, my husband did not read well. He could read enough to get by, but he could not read well. Throw a unique town name in there with one vowel and half a dozen consonants and it was anyone's guess as to how to pronounce it. My husband was a proud man though and did not want anyone knowing as he feared looking unintelligent.  His lack of a high school diploma and the challenges he faced made him feel less intelligent than others. I thought of him as very intelligent, very capable and very brave. Going out into the wild highway world of a truck driver with the challenges he faced. I respected him then, I will always respect him because he did not allow those challenges to stop him.
 I go to work at the same place every day, doing the same thing and dreaming of something new, big and exciting. I dream... my husband did it. He faced a lot, he battled a lot and he kept right on going, right up until the end. I will always see my husband as a courageous man. Always.