KNOWING LOVE

This is a picture of my wife at 4 years old.

Every time I look at this picture, I smile and think to myself, “I wish I’d known her then. I would’ve been her friend!” Seriously, I would’ve friended her so hard. lol I would’ve rode bikes, made mud pies, endured protracted doll activites, discovered bugs in the yard, and listened to every fantastic tale her young mind could conjure. I would’ve done all of it. Gladly.

I used to lament the fact that I didn’t know her when she was younger. That is, until I understood something very important…

She is still that little girl.

That 4-year-old little girl lives inside of her. And every time she shares with me stories of her childhood, or introduces me to cousins she used to visit in the summer, or I sit and watch while she reminisces over faded, old photos of Canadian farmland, I learn more about her 4-year-old self… and her 13-year-old self… and any other year-old versions of her that I may not have witnessed firsthand. And I fall in love with each and every one of them.

Because they are all still there.

As I picture this beautifully blonde, rambunctiously creative, spirited little girl, I realize that I love and have loved… all of her, throughout time. It is impossible to separate the woman she is, from the girl she was. They are one and the same.

So I no longer wish I’d known her at 4-years-old, because… I do. I know her as a preteen in the school performance at Play Mountain Place. I know her as the high school graduate who set off on her first year at UC Santa Cruz. I know her as the coed who took a summer trip to a lake house with friends. And I know her as the woman who bought her first house in Pasadena. I know… HER.

Instead, I now wish that I will continue to know her until she’s 104-years-old. Because I can’t imagine a more amazing gift than over a century of knowing and loving someone like her.

Happy Valentines Day, my love.

DOVE NOTE #90 – Soda Explosion

We all know (or should know) that any relationship worth having will have some issues to iron out. The following is one such issue…

Two friends of mine are making plans to get married (somewhere in the distant future, and yes, to each other). The guy is having difficulty understanding why his fiance wasn’t okay with him hanging out with an old female friend. He says she’s only a friend. Although, when pressed, he admits that this girl likes him. And though he says he doesn’t like her, it still doesn’t foster a sense of security with his fiance.

I told him that this girl is probably hoping not-so-secretly that if things don’t go well with his current girlfriend, she’ll be there to “mend his heart” and finally get her chance to date him. He found the thought of that to be somewhat ridiculous. Mostly because he doesn’t find her remotely attractive.

So I offered him a word of advice. I said, “Willfully contributing to your partner’s insecurity is like shaking a bottle of soda. Once you open it up, it’ll explode all over you and everyone close to you.” I told him to show his fiance how much he values her by demonstrating his preference for her feelings over all others. Blessed is the husband whose life consists of joyful memories upon which he and his wife can build a happy future.

DOVE NOTE #15 – Countdown To Happiness

I’ve heard it said on more than one occasion by more than one person, that if one (or more than one) thing “were different about  me/my boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife, I/they would be perfect“. Well, let me rescue you from the prison which is this completely ridiculous and unrealistic desire.

There is no such thing as a perfect person. This doesn’t mean that you can’t have a preference when it comes to the qualities you find attractive. It also doesn’t mean you can’t desire to become a “better” girl/boyfriend or husband/wife. But finding or becoming that person is rarely, if ever, about following someone’s suggestions, and absolutely about what each individual person considers a great partner to be.

This is why I encourage people to really take their time when choosing a mate. Being patient when it comes to heart matters can help you avoid a multitude of problems. And I don’t mean problems like being undecided about which restaurant you’d like to visit for dinner. I’m talking about the lingering kind of problems that stem from people erroneously thinking that physical beauty somehow translates into integrity, honesty and strength of character. These traits are not always evident when you first meet someone. So when you’re feeling impatient about a new potential relationship, consider the flip side of the saying “good things come to those who wait” which says, “bad things will often overtake the impatient“. 😉

DOVE NOTE #7: Move The Desk

(from the forthcoming book “Dove Notes”)

It is 2:00am.  You’re tired, sluggish, and preoccupied with thoughts of your warm cozy bed at home that you can’t wait to get into.  You have at least a 30 minute drive home, and your amazing girlfriend/fiance runs out of the house and over to your car, smiles and asks you if you could please help her move her desk from one room to the other before you leave.

What do you do?  You say “Absolutely” as quickly as you can possibly muster, and of course… smile. 😀

Any delayed reaction… any smirk or noticeable look of frustration on your face… and groaning or whining… will most likely negate every single wonderfully thoughtful thing you may have said or done that day.  It will all be marked as insincere and points will be deducted…. LOTS of points.

First Dates

I’d told someone a while back that I’ve never really been on a “first date”. Here’s the back story…

Growing up, both of my parents were (and still are) staunch Christians. They weren’t the fire and brimstone bible thumpers. But they were against the use of profanity, girls wearing makeup or pants, and a slew of other non-cardinal religious traditions. Because of this, I was taught that your heart and body are gifts that should only be given to the right person at the right time (preferably in your 30’s according to my mom ). Being the overly analytical sort, I pondered this concept for weeks. This made me painfully aware of the time I spent with female friends and what it might lead to.

See, I started noticing girls as early as the 5th grade. I was very typical in doing “love taps” and other annoying things that young boys do when they think a girl is pretty.  And of course when I began to notice the developing assets that made them far more enjoyable to hang out with , my mind would go back to what my parents instilled in me and I’d apply the mental brakes. By the time I hit my early teens, I’d formulated an opinion (or justification for my timidness) that it was pointless to date someone unless I was planning to marry them. I was determined to save myself for marriage!* Partly because I was deathly afraid of getting some girl pregnant or contracting an STD. But mostly because I believed that the purpose of dating was to prepare for marriage. Otherwise, I’m just wasting time, right?

So before I’d get involved with a girl (before she even knew I was interested), I would automatically run her through my mental checklist of “potential wife qualities” and if she didn’t measure up, I didn’t pursue. Sounds kind of arrogant in retrospect. But remember, this was all in my head. It wasn’t like I was breaking hearts all across town. I started off being very intimidated by beautiful girls. Couple that with some serious self-esteem issues and it’s a recipe for loneliness. Meh.

I got over that quickly. Mostly because of my emerging sense of humor and musical ability. Those gave me much needed confidence. I eventually overcame my reservations and enjoyed hanging out with many female friends. I wouldn’t date any of them, but they all became the subjects of my research. I’d ask them endless questions about things like… what they considered attractive, their idea of a perfect date, what makes someone funny, how to impress them, etc, etc. It was priceless. (I would recommend this mode of action to every guy on the planet.) Understanding women is a challenge at best. But they love to talk. The key is talking to them outside the tangles and distraction of dating. That makes all the difference.

By the time I was 19 I’d only had two girlfriends.  The first one was this beautiful girl who was two years younger than me.  She was also taller than me whenever she wore heels, which she did often because she was an aspiring model. It was never really an issue when we were dating, but it’s funny how that kind of detail sticks out in your mind. The story of our breakup is probably best left for another blog post. The second girl was the younger sister of someone my oldest brother was dating (whom he eventually married). We never went on “dates” because I’d known her for a while through her sister and I’d see her often enough whenever we visited each others houses. It was all good because both sisters started attending our church and I had been convinced (by a minister at the time) I was going to marry her. Yeah, um… that didn’t happen. haha

Anyway, when I met the woman who would become my first wife, our initial “date” was actually attending a church service. And though I wasn’t thinking about it this way, it’s probably not the kind of event that transitions well to kissing. You can’t really go from “Praise God” to “Oh my God!” in a backseat. I actually don’t remember kissing her. But I may have just blocked that out.

After the demise of my first marriage, I was content being a single Dad. Dating was the furthest thing from my mind. All those feelings of insecurity crept back in and I figured I’d be single for the rest of my life. That is, until I became best friends with the woman who would eventually become my current wife. When we took the leap from “friends” to “more than friends”, we’d already known each other for years and had spent plenty of time together in a band, hanging out with groups of friends and just chatting on the phone. So our first kiss was during a night of emotional discovery that had nothing to do with dating and everything to do with realizing how important we’d become to each other. However, there were plenty of dates (and kissing) after that night.

* For the record, I lost my virginity at 16. Ah yes, the best laid plans… (no pun intended)