Listening to my own advice

I was with my friend Michaela today, who is not a member. She told me she and her husband are attending couples counseling. Sadness overwhelmed me, but I was also hopeful. At least they haven't given up on their marriage. I hope they don't. He is a part owner in a restaurant and opening another one, which means he is insanely busy. This also means Michaela has been a single mom for a couple of months. Neither one has a day off. They have little to no time alone or with each other. This is a recipe for disaster on so many levels. I offered some unsolicited advice... he needed to impose his own limits on his work. With a job that is 24/7, he has to be the one to impose the limits so it doesn't destroy him (and his marriage). She needed to go do something for herself. They needed to find time to spend together, alone.

Then I thought about us. Our marriage isn't perfect, but I am glad you don't work 100 hours a week and leave me a single mom. We try to get out and do things alone together, and I try to get out by myself. I appreciate your support and encouragement in all of these activities. Surely, we could do a little more, but on the whole, I think we do pretty well. Sitting here thinking about this, I wanted to tell her that she and her husband need to go to the temple, which wouldn't be appropriate necessarily since they are not members. But it made me realize how lucky we are to have the temple, to understand the covenants we have made and the nature of God as well as the role of family in his plan. It also made me want to share these things with her in some way.

They have been married as long as we have. Their kids are the same age as ours (minus Fiona). We may have ups and downs, good days and bad. I may complain about my lack of sleep or time to myself, but at least we are trying to think about each other and make the other person happier. That alone has made a big difference in the functionality and happiness of our marriage. So thanks for always thinking of me and not thinking of yourself and for loving me when I am not thinking of anyone but myself. I needed you long before I knew it. But I once I knew it, I never forgot it.

Regarding Being Better For You Now A Long Time Ago

I can still remember the feeling I had the first time I was in love with a girl who was really good. She was older that me; enough for it to make a difference at that young teen age of ours. She was a senior and I was a sophomore, so basically, it was never gonna happen with us.

But she was really nice to me. She took me to the movies on my birthday. We had a really great time. I really let myself love her, perhaps because I felt safe knowing that it really couldn't happen, but because I was so deeply smitten with this good girl, I started to imagine what a future with her would be like. It was kind of a mind-blowing experience. I tried to tell her this was happening at one point, and because I couldn't quite articulate it, the conversation just felt a little odd.

I think I understand better now what was happening in my mind. Because of the person that she was, I couldn't picture us together in the future without seeing myself as a better person as well. The most eye-opening part was that I really wanted to be that person. I wanted to be better, to be good. I wanted to be strong, and to be worthy of her. Just the idea of being in a real relationship with her, however far fetched, made me want to be better, and I found joy in the feeling that I could be. I could do it. I could change and be better.

You make me feel this way. You make me want to be strong. To look my demons in the face and deal with them because I know you are good and that our relationship is worth it.

I know it's hard to make the kind of sacrifices that bring us real and lasting improvement, in ourselves and in our relationship, but I'm strengthened by your love for me and patience with me. I still find joy in the thought that I can be better, and I love that our love is a motivator of that. I think it's a big part of the covenants we have made and try to keep. Truly, our redeemer, Jesus Christ, has the most power to help us become better than we are, so it's equally encouraging that His power is what gives our covenants their efficacy.

I'm rambling now. Like that day many years ago when I tried to explain what was happening to my swiftly blowing mind. It may take a few decades for me to figure out what's happening here and now with us and feel able to articulate it. Until then, know that I'm very deeply smitten with you, and glad that you make me want to be better.

Remembering a Conversation From the Other Night

I had been browsing around on Amazon and came across a few self-help books for couples. Using the "look inside" function I read a few pages of content and read some stories of couples with some serious issues that they were able to overcome. I was happy they did, and even more relieved to note how relatively tame any issues in our relationship seem to be. I was thinking about all this when I started this conversation.

Me: So, here's a rather ridiculous question, mostly because I'm asking you to quantify something that can't really be quantified, but how would you rate our relationship on a scale of one to ten?

You: Our relationship?

Me: Yeah, like the health of our relationship. How would you score it?

Your answer was quick and rather nonchalantly delivered as you put something in the fridge.

You: I'd say 8. Maybe 8.5?

I was hoping you wouldn't score us lower than a seven, so I was very pleased with your reply, and even more to feel like it matched the score I would give us. I nodded in agreement.

Me: Yeah. I'm right there with ya.

The conversation drifted into other things more practical and immediate, but later in the evening I followed up by asking...

Me: So, what can we do to improve our relationship?

Again your answer came quickly and matter of fact.

You: We've just gotta get rid of these kids.

Here's to you, my love. And to these little humans you could never live without.

You are better than you think

I have been sitting here for the past 45 minutes trying to think of what I could say to make you feel better. You ran out the door quickly to make it to a singles function you inadvertently forgot about. I could tell you were beating yourself up over it, questioning your abilities and value as a 1st counselor in the Bishopric, wondering why you can't get it together to do more than you already do. I didn't remind you about it because I forgot it was happening. You didn't remember because you were functioning on maybe 4.5 hours of sleep some of which occurred on the floor in your boys' bedroom because John woke up at 1 am terrified turning the lights on in his room waking up Grant. That, after you spent your entire Saturday helping my cousin move, painting our office walls and taking me out to Karaoke with my cousin until 11:30pm. And then there were all those Sunday prep things like showering, ironing shirts and getting your things together for early morning meetings. Sadly, we were still awake when John woke up. But you wouldn't let me stay in there. You insisted I go to bed, even though I insisted that you had to get up earlier than me. But that's the kind of man you are. 

And then you were up early to go to your meetings. You conducted and did tithing. You let me get to hear a few minutes of gospel doctrine and say the prayer in Relief Society by staying with Grant in nursery even though he was having a meltdown at my departure. You took John after church as you did tithing and then spent much of your evening wrangling our crazy, whining boys so I could enjoy one last dinner with my cousin. Then you helped put the boys to bed, fixed the bookshelf and who knows what else before it dawned on you that you were very late to this singles function. You felt you had let our Bishop down. You felt like you had failed. But I am here to gently remind you that is not the case.

If you think back to the last 48 hours, you will see that most of that was in serving others. In fact, most of what you do on a daily basis is for the benefit of others, mostly for me and the boys but a lot for the ward. I know you don't think you do enough. There is always more that can be done, but I appreciate how much you do for me and our family. I feel like I don't do enough, but you are always reminding me how much I do. So now I am reminding you of how much you do. When do you really do anything for yourself? Rarely. I should change that. 

Cameron, I love you. You are a wonderful man. We all make mistakes. Lord knows how many I make on a daily basis. I am fortunate that you and our boys are so forgiving. Otherwise, I might not be able to wake up each day and try again. You take care of me like no one else could, even when I am being stubborn and careless. You take time to teach our boys in a way only you can. And they love you for it. I love you for it. 

We want so badly to be that person we know Heavenly Father sees in us and that we see ourselves being. And I believe everyday through good and bad, mistakes and successes, we are a little bit closer. I don't think Heavenly Father is at all disappointed in the man you are and the efforts you make each day to serve him and his sons and daughters all over this town. You have a heart of gold. You see people as they should be seen. Love them. Accept them. Never judge them. You just do it because your heart is pure. I admire that about you. Heavenly Father loves that about you. He trusts you. He believes in you. So when there are days like today when you don't feel like you have done your part or made mistakes or let people down, please remember that Heavenly Father loves you, loves how you serve and accepts your offering however meager you may think it is.

Thank you for serving. Thank you for sacrificing. Thank you for loving. In the eternal picture, those are the things that matter most. I love you.

Five years

On our first anniversary, we stayed in a hotel room downtown and planned to spend the following day exploring the lower part of this grand city we live in and ending at Giorgio's of Gramercy where we had our first date. All went according to plan until you got sick. We went home early and you went to bed.

On our second anniversary, you were sick, so we did nothing.

I don't even remember our 3rd.

The 4th was a low point and just a comedy of tragic errors. You made good plans, but the research was a little faulty. You wanted to take me to this place in Chelsea Market that has milkshakes made from milk from a local dairy farm I like. Then you wanted to show me something at the Mac store and we were going to end the night on the Highline. All awesome ideas... except Chelsea Market closes early. The place you wanted to take me was closed and our other options for eating were limited. By the time we were done eating, the Mac store was closed and so was the Highline. I said we should just go home before things got worse. It was not a happy evening. I might have had a meltdown. I made you promise that our 5th would be out of this world awesome.

Well, happy 5th anniversary and thank you Stake Conference for making sure we had 5 bad anniversaries in a row. I mentioned on our walk to the subway following the adult session that we are probably the only people on the planet who attend stake conference on their anniversary... with their kids. I came home, put the kids to bed, had cereal for dinner. I might have had a meltdown.

The good news is 5 anniversaries is nothing compared to the 60+ I hope we have. And the eternity thereafter. At this point, the anniversaries that are more like bad first dates are becoming almost comical... after the meltdown. It surprises me sometimes how it's been 5 years of great marriage, more than 6 that we've been together, and more than 8 that we have known each other and I started craving hugs from you whenever I saw you. It used to be that I couldn't imagine dating anyone for more than a few months before the boredom set in, which meant imagining marriage impossible because that meant an eternity with someone. I couldn't imagine loving anyone for that long or not getting bored. But you have done it. I never get bored. It's been 5 years, and I still want you around just as much if not more than I did when we started dating. I hate that part of the morning when you get ready to go to work. The only thing that saves me from wallowing in my own sadness at your departure is watching your boys say goodbye to you at the door. I spend a good 5-10 minutes before you leave busying myself and preparing for your absence. I just like having you around. Saturdays just aren't enough for me. 

I feel so fortunate that you love me. Adore me. Serve me. Take care of me. And put up with me. I feel fortunate to have these awesome little boys we call ours, who love you and miss you almost as much as I do every day. I feel fortunate to have a husband who loves his family. 

I feel fortunate that you are mine. All mine. Forever.

Thinking of You

It's late and you're asleep. I came home to find you had left some soup out for me. It was delish, even though you were not excited about making it this morning.

Our boys are sleeping, but suffering slightly under sickness and injury. Grant has a cold that is getting old and John's mouth is still swollen when he fell and bit his lip something fierce the other day. I'm glad that I can't hear Grant coughing, and that John is asleep in our room.

I have so many things I want to talk to you about. I mostly just want to tell you how grateful I am that you love me, how much I love you and how content I am with our life together with these two little humans who call us Mommy/Mum and Daddy/Da. I wanted to tell you all this last night as well, but was having a hard time trying to think of words that didn't sound trite, words that would really express how I feel.

So I told you about how the other day when John was sitting with me with a makeshift ice-pack as we watched movies we had taken with our phones, we came across the movie I had made of our wedding footage. I looked at those two kids and couldn't help but feel a little sorry for them. Not only because they were in for challenging times, as any married couple has to face, but because they had no idea how much their love was going to grow.


I thought when I married you that I knew what love was. I have been continually proven ignorant of just how powerful love is and can become. I owe this increase in wisdom to you. I look forward to finding the love we share strengthened and increased, growing the way a grove of trees slowly becomes a forest, coming together the way drops of rain flow into rivers that meet in the sea.

This increased understanding gives me hope that other people can have love like this and be better for it, that mankind can be healed by love on all of it's levels and each of it's forms. That we as brothers and sisters, parents and children, husbands and wives, can all set aside fear and doubt and choose to love and be loved.

Be loved, my beloved.

Be loved by all who love you, and especially by me.

Forever might be long enough. But just barely.

I have a lot I want to say here, yet I'm positive I don't have all the words to express all these thoughts just yet, so I'm kinda glad to know this is just one post out of many more to come.

I've been thinking about this idea of being together forever and what that really means. Forever is a long time, so just about anything that's going to happen forever needs to be taken fairly seriously.

My wife and I have known each other for, lemme see here, about eight years or so. Two of those years we were friends who saw each other in church and would have semi-flirtatious conversations between classes in the hallway. Another year we were dating for the first half and engaged to be wed the rest. Now, with four plus years of marriage and two and a half kids, one might think I would feel pretty established, hitting my stride, or finding a groove. Put another way, that I'm settling into this whole eternal companionship thing like a dad getting comfy in his easy chair with a good book and putting his feet up. But this is not the case.

I feel like we've barely scratched the surface. There is so much I need to understand about who my wife is and how I can be a better husband to her. I need to pay more attention to her needs. I need to be a better best friend to her, for she is a constant friend to me. I need to stop being scared and tell her how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking before it's too late and she comes to me asking, "What were you thinking?".

Beyond that, there are experiences she and I need to have together. We need to raise all these kids together and let them break our hearts and make us proud. We need to save for a rainy day and be faithful when it starts to rain and we haven't saved enough. We need to be old together. And I'd like to at least try to satiate her desire to travel together and see a bit more of this world. Here's to hoping it happens before we're serving a mission as a senior couple, although that would take care of both traveling and being old together.

That said, I can't help but think about when this whole earth-life thing is over, and I wonder how much we will reference the time we're spending together right now. She'll say something like, "Remember when we lived in that apartment where our couch didn't really fit anywhere, and you wanted to just cut off the arm rests to make it work?". And then we'll smile at each other with a perfect understanding of exactly how far we have come, how much our love for each other has grown, and that the couch with the arm rests cut off totally would have worked.

Here's to looking really far ahead. And seeing us there.