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20110830

My Wife

Emily and I had been dating for less than three weeks when I left for Fort Richardson, Alaska. I don’t know how we managed to cram a two year relationship into two weeks, but that’s a fair description of what happened. I had just gotten out of airborne school, and I had about a month of leave in Nashville before reporting to my first duty station in Anchorage. A long-term, long-distance relationship was the last thing I expected to take with me. Looking back, I’m glad it worked out that way.

One of the first things I did when I arrived in Alaska was to write Emily a poem. I’m a fair writer, but a shoddy poet. That didn’t matter to Emily – she appreciated every cheesy line. Since then, she has casually mentioned to me that I haven’t written her any other poems. I probably never will.

Emily and I have been married for eight years today. We’ve lived in three states, and we’ve driven across the entire country together – from Anchorage to the Carolina coast. It’s been an interesting journey. To celebrate our time together, I’ve selected some of my favorite photographs of Emily from throughout the years, and I’d like to share with you the memories I associate with them.

I may not be a good poet, but I can string words together to make sentences and convey my thoughts. Right now, those thoughts are of Emily. So this post is simply titled, “My Wife”. It’s dedicated to our first eight years, and hopefully will fan the flames for many more to come.

"Engaged"


I left Nashville for Fort Richardson, Alaska in mid-September of 2002.  At that time, Emily and I had been dating for around two and half weeks.  Everything was a bit uncertain.  We were very much in love, but we both knew the difficulty that lay ahead of us.  Three thousand miles and four time zones can make it hard to stay in touch, let alone build a relationship.

We spoke on the phone quite often.  We e-mailed, wrote letters, and talked over the webcam.  She even flew from Nashville to Anchorage for a long weekend.  Eventually, we became more and more certain that our relationship had what it took to survive the distance.  We started talking about marriage.  I started shopping for rings.

I was deeply in debt when I joined the Army, and my monthly salary was a mere $2,000.  I couldn't afford much in the way of a ring, but I found one in my price range at Sears, of all places.  I didn't have a car, and I didn't have many friends (I was much older than the average private), but I had met a sergeant who lived down the hall, and had offered to give me a ride if I ever needed one.  Well, if there was ever an occasion, this was it.  I knocked on his door and asked him if I could bum a ride to Sears to pick up an engagement ring.  We were off.  The sergeant was Travis Stenberg, and he remains one of my best friends to this day. 

In a computer database somewhere there is a record of the credit card transaction wherein I purchased Emily's engagement ring.  Also on that transaction is an X-Box and Madden 2003.  Sue me.

During my Christmas leave, Emily and I spent some time at her parent's house.  One evening we had gone upstairs to practice some hymns (her mother likes to hear us sing).  I had made a little cut-out in the back of the song book and placed the engagement ring inside.  I asked her to have a look at the song inside the back cover, and she made the discovery.  I followed it up with a super-cheesy proposal, which she didn't mind at all.

We spent the rest of the holiday telling all of our friends and family.  When the time came for me to return to Alaska, it was a sad goodbye, but it felt so much more like a beginning than an ending.

“Wildcat”


Emily and I took a cruise for our honeymoon. In Jamaica, we went on a bike ride that was supposed to be 90% downhill. A fair description, but the 10% that was uphill was straight uphill, and the 90% downhill was almost a straight plummet into the Caribbean. We had to lay on the brakes constantly.  We stopped along the way down and sampled some sugar cane that the local farmers had mixed in with their marijuana. The photograph shows Emily proudly sampling the local fare.

Emily was wearing a Kentucky Wildcats outfit that day. Across the front of the shirt, the word “Kentucky” was printed. Emblazoned across the seat of the little short shorts was the word “Wildcats”. Our bike ride was led by several Jamaican tour guides. About halfway through the ride, one of the guides pulled up alongside me. “Is that your wife?” he asked, motioning ahead to Emily. “Yes,” I replied, “why?” His answer consisted of a single word and a wry grin:

“Wildcat.”

“Emily's new hat”


Our honeymoon cruise also stopped in Cozumel, Mexico. We went ashore for a short shopping trip. I’m not a big fan of shopping in Jamaica and Cozumel – they are high-pressure tourist traps. But I seem to remember that Emily made me promise her one good shopping trip, and Cozumel was where she wanted to take it. So shopping we went.

I remember the only thing I wanted was a Dos Equis that wasn’t imported. Emily browsed around for a while, not really interested in much. We came across a store that was selling straw hats, and somehow I talked her into buying one. If you know Emily at all, you know she’s not really a hat person. But this hat looked really good on her, especially when worn with her swimsuit. So we got it.

Unfortunately, the hat was in our Jeep when I let a friend borrow it to move, and when I got the Jeep back the hat was gone. Forever. Emily refused to replace it. This picture is the only documentation in existence that at one time, Emily Arnold Davis owned and wore a straw cowboy hat and a bikini. It’s a good one.

"Dogsledding"


Emily flew from Nashville to Anchorage to visit me in October of 2002.  There was already quite a bit of snow in Anchorage by then, and Emily was determined to do some "Alaskan-y" activities, to use her term.  We panned for gold, visited a state park, and saw the sights around town.  But there was one activity Emily was not going to be denied - dogsledding.

We found a place that would give you a short dogsled ride around a local baseball diamond.  When we arrived, it became evident that most aspiring dogsledders are much younger than Emily, but that didn't deter her.  I remember remarking to her how motivated the dogs seemed.  In between runs, the dogs would snap and bark at each other, as if they had so much pent-up energy and competitiveness that it spilled out into violence.  They couldn't wait for the next run to begin.

Emily's dogsled ride, like our visit, was far too short. 

"Shooting"


When I got back from Afghanistan in August of 2004, Emily and I drove all over the South visiting family and friends.  Eventually, we made it all the way to Kensett, Arkansas to visit my grandparents.  At the time, they lived on a 480 +/- acre farm that was perfect for shooting.

Emily has a Browning BuckMark .22 that her father bought her.  Her favorite part about it is the signature Browning gold trigger.  It doesn't see much action - we don't do a lot of shooting any more.  But the pistol is special to her - she's a daddy's girl.  I was shooting the Glock 30 Emily bought me for my coming home present.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Emily, and the only one I have of her shooting.  I think she looks absolutely fantastic in it.   

“Corona”


In March of 2005, I was transferred to Fort Lewis, Washington. You can leave Alaska one of three ways – a flight, a long drive through Canada, or a ferry ride from Haines, Alaska to Bellingham, Washington. We took the ferry. I think it took us at least three days and two nights. It was a beautiful trip down along the Alaskan coast, weaving in and out of the islands. We stopped at a couple of small coastal towns, and took dozens of pictures of bald eagles and wild mountaintops.

This picture is special to me because Emily is wearing another hat that I bought for her. I think this hat looks really cute on her. I like the way the hat and her dark hair surround and accentuate her pretty face. The corona behind her head makes her look truly angelic. There we go with the cheese again.

"Making the best of it"


Emily and I lived in the Tacoma area for a little over a year.  She lived with me in Anchorage for about four months (she likes to tell people that she "wintered in Alaska") until I was transferred to Lewis.  We had a nice little condo just off post in a small military community.  Our parents all came to visit, and we took them on the standard tour of the area - Fort Lewis, the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, etc.  It was a fun experience.

I enjoyed Washington a bit more than Emily did, however.  She doesn't do well in cold weather, and she missed her family terribly.  In an effort to stay occupied, she bought a book on making baloon animals, and I think this was her first effort.  Nice job - I think it's an insect of some type.

What touches me the most about this picture is the look on her face.  She's smiling, but her eyes are a bit sad.  They say, "I miss my family, but I love you so much I'm willing to make the best of it."  It always makes me a sad to see how hard it was for her during that time.  But it also makes me happy at the same time - a woman that will resort to making baloon animals will go to any length to build a happy marriage.

“Car Show”


Emily and I lived in Cynthiana for two years while I worked on my MBA. During this time, we took a trip to Lexington with her parents, Lem and Peggy. Lem and I went to Keeneland for the annual car show while Emily and her mother went shopping. This picture was taken on the way up there. She was sitting this way, in her Injinji toe socks that she always wears. I thought she looked sassy, so I stole a picture of her. She didn’t want to be photographed, and the next photo I took had a more reprimanding tone. But I like this one. She’s happy and playful in it, and I love it when she’s happy.

"A real fixer-upper"


In 2008, we bought the first and only house we looked at, and didn't even have our own realtor.  Smart.  It needed a lot of work, and I've posted in the past about how Hollywood should be ashamed at how playful and fun it makes home renovations appear.  Unless you're watching "The Money Pit".

It wasn't so bad, and since we don't really ever plan to move, we don't have to worry about the mountain of money we've spent on renovations.  It has been a great learning experience for both of us.  Come by and see us sometime, we'd love to show you before and after pictures.

Here we are putting in a drain hose for a dehumidifier.  If you have a basement, you know that humidity can be a problem.  I bought a decent unit, and we rigged it up to drain into the sump so I wouldn't have to manually drain the water every day.  If you are curious as to how nasty this situation really is, know that Emily is a wound and ostomy nurse.  She deals in human waste all day, and it takes a lot to gross her out.  Sumps are filthy.

This picture reminds me of one of Emily's many "get rich quick" inventions.  She's constantly coming up with ideas for new products that will "make us millions".  In this case, she was heartbroken to find that someone had already invented deodorizing tablets for basement sumps.  That hasn't stopped her from brainstorming, though.  She's an idea machine.  A cute, sweet, endearing idea machine.

"Holden Beach"


Emily and I went to Holden Beach with our respective in-laws in October of 2008.  The water was still warm enough to swim in.  One morning we made it a point to get up early and see the sunrise.  We took a walk along the beach, as millions of couples before us must have done, and so will millions after we are gone. 

However common the act might have been, the fact that I was with Emily made it unique to me, and that's really all that matters.

Here she is in a picture that she no doubt hates - she's in her pajamas, with no make-up or hair treatment whatsoever, holding up her pajama legs so they don't get wet in the ocean.  But I love this picture for all the same reasons she hates it.  This is my Emily.  Not the one the world gets to see, but the one only I'm privileged to live with.

“Derby Mini”


Emily and her college friends decided to run a mini-marathon together. If there’s one thing about Emily of which I am certain, it’s that she is an immensely capable woman. She is highly economical in her efforts, and when she determines that a course of action is worthwhile, she executes efficiently and tenaciously. 

She ran cross-country in college, but to this date in our entire marriage she nhad ever run a single step. This may have given a less determined woman pause, but Emily came up with a plan to train and started executing. She started eating right, running, and exercising. And when the date of the mini came around, she was as prepared as she could possibly have been. 

This picture was taken in the car on the way to Louisville, where the Derby Mini-Marathon was held. We got stuck in an enormous traffic jam. Emily was playing on her iPhone, and she’s wearing a cute little New Belgium hoodie that I bought her. The only grin bigger than this one was the one I was wearing when she finished.

"My girls"


Until Hank arrived, our dog Scout was Emily's pride and joy.  Even now she ranks a close second behind our son.  Kittylicious has become somewhat of a transient - she eats and sleeps here, but during the day she does her own thing.  Both animals absolutely adore Emily, though. 

Emily's interactions with Scout were such brilliant indicators of the tenderhearted, caring mother she would one day become.  She is eternally forgiving, loves unconditionally, and is wholeheartedly compassionate.  Scout sleeps with Emily and never leaves her side.

This picture was taken after we had returned from a week-long trip to the beach.  We left Scout at home with Larry, who was kind enough to dog-sit for us. Apparently, there is no substitute for mommy.

I'm starting to see this behavior in Hank now.  When he gets hungry, he will take a bottle from me as long as mommy isn't available.  If she walks by and he catches sight of her, he starts trying to sit up so that he can see her.  If she leaves the room, he gets upset.  Nobody can put Hank to bed like Mommy.  She sings to him, and he puts his little hand on her mouth as if to feel the source of those beautiful sounds.  I'm sure he drifts off to sleep thinking about what a good mommy he has.

"Our first family night"


This is another photograph that will probably get me in trouble.  But I love it.  This is Hank's first night with mom and dad in the hospital.  You can read my version of the birth story here.  He was such a tiny little guy, and she just fell into motherhood so naturally.  She constantly questions herself as to whether or not she's a good mom.  I always tell her that Hank and I will be the judge of that, and we think she's doing great.

I love the way she looks in this photograph.  Her cheeks flushed in exhaustion from the effort of a long night in the delivery room, followed by a steady stream of visitors throughout the day.  The look of love in her eyes as she cradles little helpless Hank.  She's the mother of my precious little son.  That puts her pretty near the top of my list of the greatest people ever to walk the earth.

That's it.  I hope you've enjoyed this little jaunt.

Emily - It's been eight wonderful years.  I was a jumbled, mixed-up, emotional wreck of a person before you came along, and that's exactly what I'd still be if I didn't have you.  I depend on you more than you will ever know.  More than I even realize myself.  You make me want to be a better husband, father, and Christian.  Thanks for every second we've spent in each other's lives.  It's been so much fun, and we are so blessed to have each other.

Love,

your Husband.

20110809

Mind the details

Emily gets all the credit for me blogging - she thinks I’m a good writer, and since she's never wrong, I thought I'd use what talent God has given me to share my experiences in fatherhood with the entire world. If that's not a non-sequitur, I don't know what is. 

Looking back on the day of Hank's birth, I often find myself wishing that I had made more of an effort to relish the experience.  Despite my best efforts, I feel as though I failed to appreciate that time as fully as I could have. Perhaps this feeling is inevitable. But I’ve always been guilty of looking to the future at the expense of the present; of focusing on the destination at the expense of the journey. It takes a conscious effort on my part to slow down and notice my surroundings every now and then.

Hank has a way of knocking us out of our rhythym.  We find ourselves constantly looking for Hank to fall into a routine; and whenever we think we have the next hand figured out, he has a way of re-shuffling the deck.  It's good in a way - every day is different.  Difficult, but different.

The fact that I actually wanted a son helps tremendously. A man puts forth his best effort when he's interested in the job at hand, and I am definitely interested in being a father. Because I’m enjoying fatherhood so much, and because Hank is constantly changing things up, I feel like I notice more of the subtle changes in his appearance and behavior, and every time I do, I’m reminded to slow down and enjoy the ride, because this is one journey Hank and I will never be able to repeat.

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