A Warped Sense of Reality

Sometimes I see things posted to social media and all I can do is shake my head. Sometimes I see an entire string of posts by one person and see that they share all these platitudes that seem to shed light on their personality and how they think. And then, I realize I know this person or people and see that every time they post these things they are the EXACT opposite of how things are.

Today I saw this post shared by someone I know, and if that person really believes this as pertaining to their situation they really have a warped sense of reality.

This year I've opened my home up to others, usually to keep the peace with others in the family, with the idea of helping these people regain a foothold in their lives and get back to taking care of themselves and their immediate family. 3 times I have done this, and 3 times I have failed to accomplish this mission. Maybe it was my fault?

Maybe I failed to realize that an expectation of standards and behavior should not be asked of people who come to live with you. And if they are family then this should definitely be overlooked and all actions by the other party, no matter how detrimental to themselves or their hosts, should be void of consequences. After all, they paid a paltry sum for rent/food, and being adults, or at least nearly of such an age, they should be allowed to act how they want, say what they want, and it should not be considered any of my business. After all I am merely the homeowner who is paying out far more for their needs than they contribute for. I keep the considerations low so that people might be able to have a shot at saving up their money towards embarking on a life of their own.

With one couple, they ran roughshod over us, and pretty much every family member to whom they appealed for help. They burned bridges as they moved from one to the next. Even so, they wanted to go back to where they called home....and yet despite better uses for a few hundred dollars, we bought them the bus tickets to go live their lives elsewhere.
In a matter of weeks they showed back up, with no money and no real plans. I let them live their gypsy lifestyle for a couple weeks, making sure the hardships and disappointments of homelessness sank in really deep. I made the mistake of assuming the lesson had been unforgettably learned. We took the time to get a financial plan and a plan for finishing at least their high school educations at the same time. They got to enjoy the comforts of a shower, a regular bed to sleep on....things we sometimes take for granted.
It worked for awhile....for what gigs a guy with no form of ID can get. Cash paying jobs, so at least he was trying. She stayed at home while we tried to get her mother to help get her forms of ID so she can get a job and register in school.

Everyday, and I mean literally EVERY. DAMN. DAY. They could be heard arguing and fighting like people half their young age. As is my style, I listened, but did not interfere, to let them figure out their differences. After all they are so much 'in love'. Much in the way I see how being 'in love' was taught them by one of their sets of parents.

Eventually, while away for my son's graduation from Basic Training, I learned of my car being stolen right out of my driveway. This is a bit new to me. I'm a very blessed individual in that i can leave my car running in the ghetto and disappear without it getting touched before I come back. Apparently some family who you sacrifice for, aren't quite as smart as those complete strangers who know not to take my ride. When confronted about taking the car by my wife and the implications of joyriding without a license, attitude was given. When the idea of being grounded came about, this 17 year old teenager threatened to move out.  Wrong answer to be giving my wife. Leaving our house because you don't want to follow the rules and believe you shouldn't suffer consequences of illegal acts of wrong doing is no skin off our back. In fact it only serves to make life easier for us.

Fast forward 2 days....I come home from work and am trying to relax for a bit and I hear them fighting. AGAIN. Then I hear the boy state his intentions to leave all the bullshit because it isn't healthy, so he will leave her and move out. At this point i feel the need to intercede. I make sure he understands that given their first foray here being disastrous, that if he decides he is packing up and moving on, there is no coming back. I give him 30 minutes to ponder this and make sure he is very clear in his understanding of what's going to happen. He chooses to leave anyways. I'm left trying to console a crying girl, who hours later is begging me to let him come back, that he didn't mean any of it and was just angry. Naturally at this point I have to let her know that I'm a man of my word and if I just back off every decision I make then my word is essentially worthless and that I can be a simple pushover to the whims of children. So NO, he made his decision and had plenty of time to reason it through before he left. While wear e having this discussion the boy managed to come in through my back door into the house from which he has been told not to return.
At this point I have to question his mental capacity and make him aware that if I lived in some other neighborhood he might have found himself face to face with a double barrel shotgun. Luckily for him i already knew it was him who walked in the back door.

Apparently not kowtowing to the demands of the girl and sending him back out of my house was just completely unreasonable on my part. So much so that if he wasn't allowed back then she was going to leave with him. Again I made sure she understood the ramifications of her actions. I was met with statements about how "he has been there for me when others weren't". Apparently she forgot all the time, money and stress spent by multiple members of the family over the last 6 months or so. I guess since we are family, our loyalty, forgiveness and compassion come at a much cheaper rate that that of someone she hasn't known for very many years and shows no signs of progressing into a responsible adult anytime soon. I do hope, for both their sakes, that this changes very very very soon.

For now they are apparently back to living in a tent on the other side of town. Its sad, but when I was young I was taught that for every choice you make there are rewards or consequences. And one day when you become an adult and move out you can do whatever you want, but you will be responsible for and held accountable to those decisions. I hope they realize in their late teens that they are no different from the rest of us in that their decisions can affect them. I really do hope they figure out how to become productive people. Doing so would put them light years ahead of their parental units, in my opinion. They just wont be figuring out that lesson within my home.

Back to the quote above, I'm sure stories will be told about how oppressive we were and how we kicked them out. Already heard about that last one being told by one of the girls parents after she chose to move out to chase her true love, also an unproductive member of society, ignoring the needs of their kids and failing to take any responsibility for themselves. But if they want to look at the reality of the situation:

Your family didn't turn their backs on you, you pushed away their love, help and guidance and turned your back on family as you walked out the door on your own volition.

The Fun Ends One Way Or Another

In examining relationships, it seems there are a few phases. Some more exciting than others. First you have the phase where you notice her, and then do something really cool, odd, dumb, completely stupid, or crazy to make sure she notices you.

Then if things work out the way you want, you have that whole getting to know each other/courtship phase. This always seems to be one of the more interesting portions of any relationship. You always look forward to hear from them or see them. Everything is exciting, and even the dumb stuff you look forward to.

After awhile once you've really gotten to know them, it either stays good, or sometimes things fizzle, even if just in your own mind. You get bored with them, or decide once you really know them, that quite frankly the other person sucks and you don't know what you saw in them in the first place. For some, the beginning part of the relationship is and was the best part you would ever have. The build up and excitement of 'what comes next' keeps you going. But then maybe after awhile, life allows you to blend the relationship into the mix, and everything is mundane. You still have your job, you still have your bills, and work and sleep.

Some couples make it past this point and life and their relationship merges beautifully. And in some cases, it survives all the way into marriage, and kids and careers and a new house and pets, and all that family-encompassing stuff. Some of those marriages even make it into old age, where the couple ends up sticking it out to that whole 'til death do us part' business. And that's always really great. Sure, they had their ups and downs throughout their entire relationship, where they were madly in love one day, and bored to tears with their relationship at other times. But they honored their commitment and stuck it out, ultimately loving each other to the very end.

However in this country at least, it seems about half or more marriages anymore never make it that far. You have your Hollywood marriages, marriages of convenience, or due to a baby coming into the world "unexpectedly". And sooner or later they all end up splitting under the ever popular idea of "irreconcilable differences", or in plain friggin english of a whiners voice "it's too much work, or I just don't want to work on it". What a friggin waste of time. Who the hell ever put it in your head that marriage is easy ought to be shot.

Life is exciting, and life is boring at times. Marriage and relationships are the same way. We all look at someone else's life, or at someone outside our relationship and wonder why the grass over there looks greener. Sometimes it may actually be, but usually its just perception. those who jump the fence often find themselves looking elsewhere again after grazing the other pasture for awhile and wondering why it isn't as green as it used to be when they weren't there yet.

Who knows what drives people to think this way. Some odd crave for more? Or maybe some internal drive that points away from monogamy? I don't know, and a big lazy part of me doesn't care enough to really look into that. They already pour millions into studies to look at the why and babble their results to whoever will listen and to get published, so they can get a few million more to do another useless study that doesn't ultimately affect human behavior so much as it just notes the behavior.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we would just stop from doing things to progress beyond that honeymoon stage of the first days together. If we avoided the actual involvement of getting together for sex, or moving in together, would our relationships manage to keep the same excitement that much longer, or would we just seek out someone else who's ready to put out, or move in and start a family with us??

Maybe it's just easier to text people and talk a lot without ever actually doing. Sure, you'll miss somethings, but maybe it will also lead to less emotional letdown later, if and when someone decides to move on...

They say its better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe to a degree, because you got to feel that ultimate high that love can bring you. But the question is, is it worth the pain of the ultimate low having your heart broken can bring you? And of course all the what-ifs that will undoubtedly accompany such a thing.

Extending My Reach, Expanding My Realm

So recently I have posted a bit on my journey into and through manhood. I have spent a lot of time reading on the subject, and reflecting on my own life, seeing what matches up between the two; what matches up with my ideas or not.

When I was growing up, I was often out away from the house, away from my parents. Most of the time by my own volition, other times at their behest. Turns out that I could be a bit of an annoying pest from time to time- go figure. I longed for adventure as a kid, but was always told to play it safe. Do this, don't do that, blah blah blah. Most often I would do the do list in public. Conforming to those around me. Rather than be me, I tried to please people. Out of sight, I often participated in the don't list, occasionally with my best friend, but many times on my own. I was told be a boy, but be a good boy. The times I was told to be a man, was when I complained of a perceived injustice or at a moment of injury. Beyond that, I never really knew what a man actually is. I saw the loner in John Wayne, Mr all-American heroic cowboy who could do anything. I liked that idea and set it into my brain. Well, I achieved the loner part pretty easily. For when I was alone, I could do things, and if I failed, it was only me who knew. When I tried and failed at something in front of others, the message was quite clear that I was not good enough. When I would express my dreams to do something, like be a pro ballplayer, I was often confronted with the stats on how little chance there is, and how I should think more realistically, more practically. I liked my dreams, but they were just illusions in my head. The real world just didn't have a part for me in that dreamworld. Rather than push myself, I bought into all the hype entering my ears and eyes, and slowly resigned myself to a life of dull necessity.

I remember once, when I was older and I was making my car payments through my dad who had cosigned the loan for me. I had worked many hours day after day, and I walked into my dad's work while I was in town to give him the money to write a check to the bank. I gave him well over a thousand dollars in cash to cover my $100/month expense as well as a huge payment on my car loan. I didn't say anything, but I still had $600 in my pocket and another $900 in a bank account. I was quite pleased with myself. And my dad commented to his co-worker who was standing nearby about how responsible I was being, and that he was quite proud of me in my dealings. I'm sure he had mentioned being proud of me about other things at points along the way, but that was the first time I really truly realized he was saying this. So in my mind, the job of a man was to go to work, and pay his bills. In a nutshell, that's what it took; all it took. Dad and I never really talked about what it is to be a man, and I never bothered to ask. I just watched, and went with what my eyes saw and my ears heard in the public realm.

Then I got married, already with one child, and later we would have a 2nd son born to us. So, it was time to man up. I had a job, I worked hard to pay the bills, and make sure we had a roof over our head and food in our belly, along with a little extra money to help cover incurred debts along the way. I got up, kissed the wife goodbye, went to work, came home, ate food, watched TV, played with the boy for awhile, went to bed, and repeated it the next day. Here I was, Mr Provider, Man of the House, doing my duties of work and paying bills. We would do family oriented things from time to time, but mostly my life was centered around work and bills. My wife and I would get into arguments over little things. Me being me, would argue that this cant be done, or we cant go do that, because I need that money to pay this bill or that bill. My life had literally become centered not around my family and living life, but around what bill was due next, what problem came up that I was going to have to pay for now, how many hours could I be allowed to work to make up for this new discrepancy in my financial outlook.

In essence, I became what I thought I saw my dad to be. A man works and pays his bills. I never saw the other side of him, the side that drew my mother in and makes her love him to this day. (I can't see it; he's always got a bit of stubble going on, and in my estimation a bit ugly. Just kidding, Dad!) My wife struggled in her life as well, especially with the marriage. As a guy, I hunted her down, I pursued her, and eventually I was able to persuade her to be mine. And then, it just slowly died out. I made the compliments here and there, I tried to do things for her, get her gifts, take her places, whatever. But the hunt was over, and I was drunkenly complacent, not unlike a guy right after a healthy sized Thanksgiving meal. I just sat about wasting away, waiting for my belly to be unstuffed. I basically 'took a nap' in regards to her, focusing mostly on the man things of going to work and paying the bills.

While I did those things, I left her home to take care of the kids, clean the house, and just be the good domesticated wife. Of course my wife was never really built for that role alone. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to cooking, and mothering and just about any task, my wife is at the top of her game. Even in the work world, my wife sets the standards for herself well above that of her coworkers and even the expectations of her superiors. She learns, adapts and applies knowledge quickly, as though she has known it all along. In fact over the past couple years, instead of just bitching about her 'promotions' that came with pay cuts and increased responsibilities, she merely took ownership of her role, expanded her knowledge base, and was probably more adept at her job than anyone there, including her superiors, who were merely personnel managers as far as action goes.

With the absence of my emotions in the form of communication and support (I seemed more worried about how much her paycheck was and when it came in, and what bills needed paid), she turned to her work as a major focus. She turned more to the support of her friend instead of me, who could be counted on mostly to just do the same crap I was doing every other day. My complacency wasn't just a self-identity killer (as I hid myself behind my job), but it was killing my wife's femininity in regards to me. I had realized, only well after the fact, that I had slipped from actively loving my wife to merely taking her for granted. I have since learned that this is the quickest way to kill any sense of romance in a marriage. My wife just settled into her routine, patiently waiting for me to hear her, actually hear her, and to correct my mistakes in regards to how I live my life, as well as how I treat her, but one saying comes to mind: Abused patience turns to fury. - Thomas Fuller

She has felt that she was no longer the adventure, not inspiring enough, and not worth my efforts, but just too much trouble for my self-absorbed lifestyle and mindset to deal with. In other words, she didn't feel that she was the beauty to be loved wholly. In response to this, it is only natural that a woman puts up her self-defenses towards men in general, and especially the men in her life that can still hurt her, like her husband.

To a certain degree, I recognized this on an intellectual level, but I wasn't truly learning it. As I have done my reading, I have extended my reach of reading into the world of women. I'm new at it, and by no means an expert. In fact, I'm scared beyond my ability to fathom such fear. Men are simple and easy to figure out. Women are a bit more complex. Yet I press on, because if I am ever to be able to get it, I am going to have to expand myself into the realm of a woman, to understand her mind, her heart and her soul. This is the part of true manhood, which I never really knew about. I grew up knowing only a few things about girls: they have cooties (we all learned this early on), they are nothing but trouble (I learned this from DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince as well as shows like Jerry Springer), and as guys we just like them for some damn reason we can't figure out (and sex-ed class never answered that question)...which goes back to the trouble part. We know we want them, whether or not we know why, and once we have conquered them so to speak, we look around for the next one to conquer. Essentially most guys are bastards at some point in their life, with some of them eventually figuring out that isn't the way to go. Some guys remain just guys, and not men. Just because you turned 18, or moved out of your parents' house does not mean you're a man, in the true sense. Trust me, I've done both, and at the age of 31, I'm just beginning to fully realize that maybe I wasn't truly a man, but a still a lot more so a boy, or just a guy.

Most guys prefer to look at life as a series of puzzles and problems to be solved, and this applies to our attitude as women as well. Rather than looking at a woman as a problem to be solved, we forget that a woman is a vast wonder to be explored. An adventure to be had everyday of our lives, using our strength as men to tackle the adventure that is a woman. Not to conquer her and move on, but to get to really know her at the innermost intimate levels (not just sex). But to fully expose yourself to her, and allow her to feel safe in secure in making herself naked to you (again, in the proverbial sense). But to take a woman for granted, over a long period of time, can result in her building walls around her, that she feels she has to protect herself, control her world, to avoid the pain that a guy can bring her, to avoid the painful vulnerability and broken trusts that are the risk of any real relationship. In essence, by being just guys instead of men, we steal a woman's femininity, her very core, forcing her to replace it with something else a little less natural. Many of of guys act like we listen, but often we just hear the noises associated with Charlie Brown's teacher, and never get to understand the women in our life. And when they suddenly shoot lightning bolts out their eyes at you, or worse yet display apathy towards you, as guys we stand (or sit) there completely dumbfounded, as to why this might be. We run through our head what we have done. We went to work, we paid the bills, we took out the trash, we didn't cheat on her. What in God's name could be wrong?

Well, maybe that's the problem. We forgot about God. We forgot the true name that God gave us as men made in his image, instead bearing and living out the name the world gave us. We forgot that our wives or girlfriends are essentially the daughters of Eve, the mother of all mankind. That we are to continually seek and pursue her as much as we are expected to do with God. We are to seek true beauty, and true love with all our heart, in a never ending journey. For God really is both love and beauty, and a woman is the bearer of that image of God. Now, I see why we feel this natural inclination towards women. there is, no matter deeply buried, something in us that tells us to go after the woman. But as with most things, we always think we have the next day, or the next week, or year, or whatever to accomplish whatever project or mission in life we have slated for 'later'. But we really don't know, if you really think about it, if any of that will come to pass. We take today for granted, and thusly our women for granted. I know I have, and as I have been reading and seeing the truths for the first time in my adult life, I feel as though I'm being hit by a brick from Heaven. That brick is full of knowledge, but it hurts like hell when it smacks you. Like a spanking to a child, it sometimes requires a little bit of hurt, or a lot (my dad could really pack a wallop), to make the message clear. Taking a time-out doesn't always cut it, but rather the issue needs to be addressed swiftly and directly. Maybe then the lesson will take, and the mistake won't be repeated anymore.

Also as I read, and I have seen communications from friends or words spoken to me from a friend about situations they have had, and I hear, see, and feel the beauty they bespeak, and it pains me to hear it. It feels like hell, because what they write or say sounds wonderful, and romantic, and like the perfection of a dream world encapsulated in the small moments, and I realize that I didn't necessarily give enough of myself to provide my wife with more of a love story to such a high degree that she deserves. I realize life on earth and in relationships isn't going to be always perfect, but it could be more perfect than what it is now with even just the slightest efforts, of which I have withheld. I hold many good memories, many great thoughts and affections for my wife, but inside of me. I rarely let them out. I don't know if I'm just subconsciously trying to be the strong silent type, or if I'm scared of being told off or rebuffed in anyway to avoid my own pains.

I remember first seeing my wife in October of 1996 at our place of work. She was a vision of beauty to beheld. She had on jeans and this deep blue sweater. When I met her outside, she had on a heavy coat, and the hood was pulled tight around her face that only her eyes, her cute button of a nose, and her small mouth could be seen. I was very smitten with her. I didn't care who she was dating, married to, or whatever, I had to know this one girl; this beautiful woman who made my stomach churn, my legs weak, and not just my heart, but my mind skip a beat. I had to be careful and slow down my speech in order to sound like I had things 'together' and be impressive and all that manly macho bullshit I was convinced was the way to be.
And after 14 years since I first saw her, she still turns me on as much now as she did then. I just found a way, to my own detriment as well as demeaning to her, to hide it better.

I regret that beyond almost anything I have ever done in my life. And yet, I know that before I can repair us, I must first retool and build myself up to where I'm supposed to be, to be my true self, before she can accept my overtures in the same manner she did in our more innocent first days of teenage love. I think my lesson is one that many guys need to learn, and the quicker the better. For if one is truly honest, it's much easier to build up a happy woman than it is to heal her hurts that you inflicted.

And yes, even the thought of such a journey, to explore our own emotions, much less those of a woman, is one of the scarist ideas we can have. Acting on it as a mission is even scarier. Yet, regardless of the outcome in our personal life, we can draw upon the strength of God to enhance the warrior, the adventurer that lives within our soul, to make this journey into the unknown realms. We shall come out stronger in the end, should we see ourselves through it. And if we have a significant other in our lives, maybe that relationship, even if all seems to be lost and over, can become stronger and fuller than we could only imagine it to be in our dreams.

You just have to make yourself vulnerable, no matter how scary or hurtful the idea may be, and give everything an open-minded and honest chance. To go about it any other way is both unfair to yourself and those you love, but dead wrong in the approach.

8 Years of Marriage

Today, July 1, 2008 marks the 8th anniversary of marriage to my wonderful wife, Dani.
To say the time has gone by would be a lie, and yet to say the time hasn't gone fast enough would also be a lie.
Our marriage has been marked with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, in such a short history.

In the beginning, it was a rather rough transition period for us. Mostly because of me. At the age of 20, I had hit the beginning peaks of the "party stage" of my life. I went from being responsible for myself, a pocket full of money, and generally carefree. This was a year prior to getting married, and also the first year of my oldest son, Joshua. While having some responsibility to my girlfriend/fiancee and to my parents (who technically still owned me by way of permanent mailing address, I answered primarily to myself and no other. And then came Joshua. From parties everynight and sleeping half the day away, to working all day for an always way too low paycheck and sitting at home all night with my new family, it was quite the shock to my "lifestyle". Eventually I crawled back out of the shell I had surrendered to, and eventually, unfortunately swung my personality back to the "old ways". I remained in this not so great way of life for the next few years. Trying as it was, my beautiful wife put up with me and saw me through it all. Save a flatsided frying pan (luckily due to a wall and not my head), we had made it through fairly unscathed.
This 2 or 3 years, I would've liked to have seen gone by much faster, but then again, I suppose if I hadn't slow cooked my maturity I may not have learned a darn thing, or kept my wife.
I remember when we first moved in together. It was right after Joshua was born. We had originally opted to adopt him out, but after holding him, and feeling the ice melt off my heart just a little bit, I changed my mind. And Dani was right there to back me up. We had had plans of college, and financial success, followed by children. I already had a bit of college under my belt, but after the birth, I dropped out, realizing I couldn't support my family, spend time with them, spend time at or money for school. I was okay with that. Studying, which unlike high school, college actually required, was not on my top list of skills. About a month later, Dani received a letter from one of her colleges of choice that had accepted her. She was heartbroken, because photography and owning her own studio had been the big thing she wanted to do with her life. I tried to console her, and tell her everything would be okay, but emotions also don't fit into my top skill sets. So, what'd I do? Instead of spend the evening with her, I got trashed. I was there at home physically, but instead of being with her, I consoled myself over the fact that I had messed up her life. Stupid, stupid man.
And yet, she stayed with me despite my shortcomings. WE have similar interests but are essentially two entirely opposite creatures. She can be logical, but is ruled by emotion, I on the otherhand still avoid emotion in favor of logic. Anger is my main emotion, and i hate to let it out. It usually doesn't involve her, except that she ends up being the one who gets the brunt of it. How we found any sense of compatibility, or how I managed to make her love me is still a mystery to me even all these years later.
One of the high points came again, right after moving back in together after living in two separate states, our 2nd son, Corwyn, was born. I worked everyday through it all, and spent most of the off-time at the hospital with Dani and him. As much as I hate hospitals, much less trying to sleep in a chair that you find out AFTER the fact that it folds out for better comfortability, we were able to spend a lot of time together, and without any yelling.

After going through all these years, and some very deeply disturbing personal issues, I would say this time last year was one of those times that flew by, and yet I didn't want that one night to end:
After ending work for the week, I blindfolded my wife and ushered her to a local spa for a morning of pampering. We had a little ice cream with the boys in the afternoon, and then she was blinfolded again. This time, she was brought to a local upscale wine and steak house. If you're ever in the Des Moines area, try Fleming's. It's a great place. (don't forget to bring the thick wallet!)
When she was seated and the menus placed before her, she was allowed to take the blindfold off. Her face lit up like a kid in a candy store. I hadn't seen that look on her face in quite a long time, so my gift was given right there. And then again when she timidly asked, "Can I order the lobster?" Of course I assented to anything she wanted, minus buying a $400 bottle of wine off the big wine list. Great mood lighting, tableside service for her lobster, a glass or two of wine for her (I don't drink the stuff). I FINALLY did something right!!!
We could've gone home at that point, and she would've been happy, but instead I took her to a friends Wine and Cigar shop for a little live Jazz music, and then a moonlight stroll around our local city-maintained Rose Garden. I hadn't been to sleep in over 24 hours prior to the end of the night, but if I could've turned back the clock a few hours, every few hours, I would have.

This year, with the anniversay being in the middle of the week, we both are working. We get to spend 4 days together over the 4th of July weekend, starting Thursday. So in lieu of a day off and out galavanting in each others' company, I arrived home to deliver her some lillies before she left for work. She tried to test me the other day to see if I knew what special day was coming up. I didn't forget (always nice to have the day be on the 1st! Our dating anniversary was on New Year's Day!), and she saw them and cried. She didn't say, but I'm pretty sure they were tears of joy. So apparently, I'm still able to do some right things from time to time.

And 8 years later, here we are, still married despite being given bad odds from a lot of people who know us. A testament to her strong character for sure.

As the note with the flowers said, Dani- I love you more now than I did on day one!