marriage

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Before I Met Your Mother: Flashback To 2005

April 3, 2014 at 9:10 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Until last night, I had never seen a full episode of the popular TV show, How I Met Your Mother.

But after hearing all the hype about the final episode that aired this week, I decided to check out the first couple of episodes on Netflix.

It’s interesting because the first episode flashes back to the year 2005, when the protagonist and narrator was 27 years old and meets the woman he wants to marry… and sort of ultimately begins to chase for 9 seasons.

Seeing the show took me back to a place in my life when I was that single 20something year-old guy without a wife and child.

It’s such a different state of mind.

Yes, there was so much “freedom” back then, yet I clearly remember that deep yearning to meet the love of my life, who would in essence connect me to a universe in which the world made better sense to me.

For me, the year 2005 was when I moved to Nashville to truly “start my adult life” as a 24 year-old single guy.

A year later, I met Mommy. Less than two years later, she and I got married. About two and a half years after that, you were born.

To me, this current version of my life is the one I would pick every time.

I know it could be said that raising a 3 year-old boy is at times, chaotic.

But one of my roles in our small family (and in this world as a whole) is to help organize chaos.

It’s as if I find safety and security in the structure of chaos, because it brings meaning to my life.

There are so many things I can’t do well. And there are many obvious roles in our family that Mommy handles.

As for me, I’m here for “everything else.” That’s what I’m good at. I’m starting to fathom that now.

That includes getting rid of spiders for Mommy. That includes being the official disciplinarian for you. That includes me being consistently positive for the two of you even when I don’t feel like it.

I bet it’s hard to imagine me any other way though, right? Before I met your mother, I was a lost boy.

You and her changed that for me. I like 2014 a lot better than 2005.

 

 

Love,

Daddy

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Mommy Handles Our Schedule And Budget… We Just Follow

April 3, 2014 at 7:46 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

This morning as I was dropping you off at school, you wanted to go over to your friend Avery’s daddy and ask him if Avery could hang out with us this Saturday for the free puppet show at the Nashville Library.

He was delighted you asked, as was Avery. His response: “That sounds like fun. Well, let me check with the ‘schedule keeper’ in our house, Avery’s Mommy, and we’ll let you know tomorrow.”

A few minutes later, you asked your friend Madison’s daddy the same thing. His response: “Yeah, we’d like to do that. Let me check with the person in our household who handles our schedule and we’ll see.”

Earlier this week, I was texting my friend Dave about going to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier on opening night.

Before texting me back, you guessed it… he checked with the “schedule keeper.”

Sort of like how I recently pointed out that it’s common knowledge that the modern dad does the dishes every night (or a staple household chore of similar value), I’ve observed another sign of a happily married father:

He quickly admits he doesn’t control his schedule.

So, when I’m asked about plans, I know just what to do: I refer that person to Mommy.

You and I both are just along for the ride.

Even as I’m the one driving our family around in the car on the weekends, I never really know where we are going until we’re loading up. Seriously, that’s how it is.

That’s okay by you and me. Wherever we end up, we seem to always have a good time.

And really, it’s the same way with our budget. Mommy handles that for our family.

When I want to purchase something, like tickets for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, for example, I run it by Mommy.

It’s not necessarily that I have to ask permission, per se, as it is I… collaborate with the CFO first (Chief Financial Officer).

Whether it’s the schedule or the budget, I’ve learned that pretty much, the answer is yes, but I don’t ultimately make that call independently.

Mommy and I play different roles in our household. I don’t have to worry about planning out our schedules or doing the budget. I do other stuff, which I plan to write to you more about next.

Like I said shortly after Mommy and I got married nearly 6 years ago:

I wear the pants in the relationship… but she tells me which ones to wear.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Our World Is Right In Front Of Us And It’s Pretty Good

March 14, 2014 at 8:04 pm , by 

3 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

Tomorrow is the big day… We’re going to the Monster Jam show in the morning!

For the first time, you will get to see what happens when we drive past Whole Foods on I-65 in Nashville.

All you know at this point is that the other way on I-65 goes to Louisville, KY where we have visited the zoo a couple of times now; where they have the rhinos.

So I explained to you that going south on the Interstate will take us to a place called Huntsville, AL… where the monster trucks are. (As if it’s a special monster truck city where the monster trucks always are; where they live, work, and play in organized chaos.)

Today you have been deciding which toy monster trucks to take with us on the mini-road trip; hoping to see the “real life” Monster Mutt tomorrow, which is a monster truck that looks like a giant puppy, floppy ears and all.

It’s funny how a family trip to go see monsters trucks run over old cars (or whatever they do) could be such a big deal to the three of us, but it is. It’s a big deal to you, so it’s a big deal to Mommy and me.

This morning Mommy sent me a text that seemed to summarize things, as if in a simple, yet poetic way:

Spring and summer are on their way and we have lots of fun things to be excited about— because our world is right in front of us and it’s pretty good :)

She’s right. When I see you and Mommy in front of me, I see the world and I know that it’s pretty good. Well, actually “pretty good” is an understatement.

Maybe I could use #blessed as a good start. (Yeah, the hashtag makes it even cooler.)

 

Love,

Daddy

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There Is No Law That Can Force People To Love Each Other

February 22, 2014 at 10:27 pm , by 

3 months, 3 years.

Dear Jack,

My love for you is not based on a law; nor could it even be. After all, there is no law that can force people to love each other.

Same thing goes for my love for Mommy. Sure, we have a marriage license (as recognized by the state of Tennessee) and were were married in a church (in front of God and other believers)… but I can’t be forced to love Mommy, or you.

Yet I do anyway. I choose to. I want to.

On a global scale, I believe that if everyone truly loved each other as much as they did themselves, the world wouldn’t need laws; nor would there be wars… nor would there be rich people or poor people, escpecially to the degree that people are starving.

Despite a person’s acceptance level in regards to Jesus and what He taught and claimed, I think there’s no denying He spoke some truth when He summarized it this way:

37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ -Matthew 22:37-39

But since not everyone does love their neighbors as much as they do themselves, the pattern of brokenness repeats itself.

I used to be a much more openly political person; thinking that my public beliefs as a [Republican or Democrat] would help convince the [opposing political party] to join “the side that truly cares more about helping people.”

But I was wrong to think that way. I was too focused on thinking that if our government would change laws to suit [my political affiliation] at the time, it would force people to stop doing the things that my religion teaches against.

I realize now, the law doesn’t prevent people from hurting each other. Nor does it change a person’s heart.

At best, when a person breaks the law and is incarcerated, it just puts them in a temporary time-out (jail or prison), yet that person (in most cases) doesn’t actually become reformed and redeemed.

Without a true change of heart… without a person truly having the mindset to love other people as much of they do themselves, how can they break that pattern and lifestyle?

And on the flip side, while it’s always the individual’s choice to commit a crime or hurt another person in some way, I do consider how that person’s home life and environment could have led them to make that destructive decision.

Had that person been more loved by those around him, maybe (not definitely) there’s a good chance he would have never headed down the path he did.

Meanwhile, my version of reality has been much different…

I realize that being a middle class American as long as I’ve been alive has given me major advantages and privileges in life; ones that you will have as well. However, I understand those advantages and privileges come with great responsibility. I try to consider this concept:

If I become richer, other people in the world are probably becoming poorer. If I become better well-known, other people in the world are probably becoming more forgotten. If I have too much, it means other people in the world probably don’t have enough.

In America, we are able to play at water parks while so much of the world is desperate for clean drinking water.

I am light years away from perfecting this “love your neighbor as yourself” concept in my life, but I have a feeling that if I’m mindfully teaching it to you, I can take a few steps in the right direction.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Shared Memories Are Like A Time Machine

February 7, 2014 at 8:23 pm , by 

3 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

I have a theory.

It’s sort of like the one that asks, “If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound?”

My theory is that if you’re the only one in this world who witnessed and experienced an event, or at least the only one who still remembers it, then in essence, that event only happened because you remember it happening.

For example, I remember when I was in 3rd grade, in 1990, giving my teacher Mrs. Lawrence a Kudos bar (a chocolate covered granola bar) after I had already taken it out of the wrapper and placed it inside my cold metal desk.

I had just played a prank on Ferne Taylor, the girl next to me; where I pretended like I was going to give her my Kudos bar. In reality, it was just an empty wrapper.

After I performed the joke, I offered the chocolate covered granola bar to Mrs. Lawrence instead. (Why didn’t I give it to Ferne?)

I still remember the confused look on my teacher’s face, as she politely turned down my offer of a naked granola bar that was sitting in my desk.

The very next day I made it up by giving Mrs. Lawrence a Kudos bar, but this time, it was fully enclosed in the wrapper. (Again, what about Ferne?)

Now, that may seem like a random story, and it is…

But I’m sure that if Mrs. Lawrence or Ferne Taylor happened to read this story on Facebook, there’s a good chance they would have no memory of this event happening whatsoever.

In other words, this story only happened because I clearly remember it happening. I keep it alive with me; especially if and when I share this seemingly uneventful story.

Similarly, if a group of people remember the same memories, good or bad or neutral, they can exclusively travel in time to a different time and place.

A DeLorean would be convenient… and really cool. However, that’s not how time travel works.

Those random memories in our minds are the bookmarks in time that, in a way, help us instantly revisit those times and places anytime we want.

And that brings me to us: our family.

Our family of three will make, share, and revisit all kinds of warm and fuzzy memories for the rest of our lives.

The stories we will reminisce about may not seem special or funny or even that interesting to anyone else. But for us, we will be travelling back in time, because shared memories are like a time machine.

What we remember becomes our reality. We are creating our own shared reality each day.

That’s what these letters to you are all about.

I am attempting to expand our collection of family memories, so as we all get older, the three of us will have more places to “travel in time.”

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Photo: Diana Taub Photography.