Monthly Archives: May 2025

Happy I Love You Day

A couple of years ago I declared May 16th as “Happy I Love You Day”.  I was surprised to find an actual “I Love You” day by doing a Google search.  Apparently, there is a National I Love You Day celebrated on October 14.  I had never heard of it, but, according to the website, it’s not for romance like Valentine’s Day, but is designed to tell your friends and family that you love them.  I don’t need October 14th for that.  I tell my friends and family I love them all the time.  This sounds like something the greeting card companies use to make money.  But I digress. 

This post isn’t exactly timely for May 16th or October 14th.  I’m about 2 weeks late or 4 months early, depending on which one of these I Love You Days we want to celebrate.  The idea for this post started percolating in my brain a few weeks ago, specifically on May 16th, since, like I said, I had already declared that day as “Happy I Love You Day.”  Since I needed to put all these thoughts together for this story, I couldn’t compose and post it in a timely manner, and I certainly didn’t feel like this would be a good Memorial Day timeframe post.  That is a time for remembrance of our fallen heroes.  So, I’ll tell this story here and now, a few weeks late from the celebration date.

If you read my last post, The Condo, you know that my time there was a turning point in my life in a good way.  And probably the highlight of my time living in that condo came in January 2020.  I went on a date with a lady I met on a dating app.  If you have ever used a dating site or app, you may know that you should not expect much from the people you meet most of the time.  At least that was my experience.  And honestly, I had reached that point after a number of disappointing encounters using a dating app.  I had zero expectations based on previous dates.  But I showed up for this date anyway. 

We had been chatting for two or three months before we met in person, so I did feel cautiously optimistic about meeting her, in that she wouldn’t be a psycho, crazy person.  If you don’t know, I’ll tell you.  Some of the people you meet on these apps are absolutely nuts.  You never know what you might be getting into.  One quick example:  A lady I met on a dating app and went on a few dates with ended up getting arrested for trafficking drugs.  Not simple possession, not trying to buy something.  She had enough of whatever product it was on her that a charge of trafficking was warranted.  I never saw that coming and never suspected anything of the sort.  And don’t call me for bail money.  You must be out of your mind.  That almost cured me of ever having another date from a dating app. 

But… one more try in January 2020.  And it turned out to be worth it.  I started dating this very nice lady.  We clicked well, had good conversations, enjoyed each other’s company.  She was kind, pretty, and had a good job.  This was good, very good.  Almost too good, right?  Back then I had a tendency of over thinking and over analyzing things.  After about four months my brain got the best of me.  I was really falling for this lady and that scared me.  I honestly didn’t feel that I deserved this level of happiness and that, somehow, some way, I would end up messing it up on a grand scale.  To avoid that, I told her we needed to slow down, that I didn’t want to get too serious.  I figured that I would mess it up now rather than later.  That makes sense, right?  What a moron!!

For the next two or three weeks I was miserable.  I went to work.  I came home.  I didn’t go out, I didn’t socialize.  I didn’t do anything.  It was too late.  By the time I told her we should slow down, I had already fallen in love.  I had two options.  I could continue to be miserable or I could swallow my pride and ask her to spend some time together.  I called, and to my surprise she agreed to get together.  That day happened to be on May 16, when she met me at the condo before we were to go out.  As soon as she walked through the door, I took her in my arms, held her close and told her how much I missed her.  After that I told her that I loved her, that I had become scared, that I was an idiot, that I needed her in my life.  I admitted that I never wanted to get married again, but that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.  Turns out, that worked for her.

Thus began a solid relationship.  Later that year, I bought a house for us and her two teenage kids to live in.  (On a side note, if you read The Condo, you know that at one point I couldn’t afford basic necessities.  So being able to buy a house just a few years later was not something I ever thought would happen).  The transition was rocky, but she and I were committed to making it work.  She had basically been single for over a decade and I was still trying to convince myself that I was allowed to be happy.  The combination of those two mindsets took a lot of work on both our parts. 

Fast forward to May 2021.  By then I had already decided to ask her to marry me even though I had previously never wanted to marry again.  I had the ring.  I asked her teenage children for permission to propose, and they agreed to keep it secret.  I had it in my head how I was going to ask.  And I was confident.  But I had to wait.  Well, I felt it right that I should wait.  My oldest daughter was getting married in May and I in no way wanted to take anything away from that.  I didn’t want any attention of any kind that would even slightly over-shadow their special day. 

After we returned home from my daughter’s wedding, I was ready to pop the question.  And I did.  And coincidently, it happened to be on May 16th.  I had no idea that the 16th was significant in any way.  I’m a guy.  I don’t always know the exact date or anniversary of something like telling someone I love them for the first time.  But she did.  Girls know everything like that!  It was completely by accident and chance that I proposed on the same day, one year later, that I had told her that I loved her.  I didn’t know the exact date.  I only knew that it was sometime around a year prior.  But ladies keep up with this kind of stuff, they know everything.  She thought I planned it that way, but honestly, I was clueless to the fact that “I love you” and “will you marry me?” was exactly a year apart.  Pure chance was far better than any planning I could have done. 

And even though every day with my wife is an I Love You Day, this is why I call May 16th “Happy I Love You Day.”  Every year for past few years, and every year to come, May 16th will be “Happy I Love You Day” for us.  It is just as important as our wedding anniversary and our first date anniversary.  Although, to be honest, she has to remind me every year what day our first date was on back in January 2020. Hey, I’m a guy, I can only remember so much for anniversaries, right?  I do know that this coming October we’ll be celebrating 4 years of marriage.  She doesn’t have to remind me of that one, I already put it in my phone calendar.  Haha!! 

Whatever day you celebrate an I Love You Day, enjoy.  Make a big deal about it.  Declare it a holiday, even if it’s only for you and your significant other.  Pick a day that has some importance to you both or decide to pick a random day.  We need more I Love You Days in our lives, besides the usual wedding anniversaries and birthdays and the like.  Find more reasons to celebrate your love for someone.  Don’t be constrained by what is usual and normal and scripted.  I challenge you to do more. 

Thanks for stopping by.  Good day, God bless, and I love you.

Dave

The Condo

In a recent blog post I mentioned that in 2018 my mind began to clear from a three-year fog.  Life was beginning to come back in to focus.  I started to feel a little normal again.  Well, at least what was to be a new normal for me at that time.  I was beginning to accept that the new me was as good as it was going to get, compared to what and who I was before.  And coming to grips with that was a huge turning point for me in my journey of recovery.  There’s no exact date I can reference in 2018 where I felt like I was righting the ship, but instead it was a process.  A few steps forward, a couple steps back, and so forth.  But I was making progress.  It was a busy year, both good for a lot of reasons, and bittersweet for other reasons. 

Leading up to 2018, there was a significant event in 2017 that helped me along.  But first, let me backtrack a little further.  In late 2016 I went to stay with my sister and her husband for a couple months in Louisiana.  But I couldn’t stay that far away from my kids who were in Florida.  So, in early 2017, I stayed with my mom in Alabama for a few months and commuted an hour and a half each way to work in Florida.  An hour and a half on a good day.  Sometimes the trip would take two hours each way.  It was tiring, but I was on the right track.

I called about a little condo that was for rent that was close to both work and my kids.  I found out they were planning to pull the listing for the rental and sell the unit.  But they offered to show it to me and if I wanted it, they would rent it to me.  I went to look at the condo and loved it.  I told them to give a few days and that I would let them know.  I was basically broke.  I was working again for the first time in a year but had nothing other than whatever was on the next paycheck.  I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but I had to try. 

When I called to let them know I wanted the condo, the lady said, “Great!” and told me to meet her after work with the deposit and she would bring the lease and the keys.  She went on to say that it was perfect timing because they were going out of town the next day for the rest of the month.  Uh-oh.  My checkbook was in Alabama where I was living and I was at work, in Florida.  To my surprise, she said that was not a problem.  She told me to come get the keys, sign the lease, and I could mail the deposit and the first month’s rent.  And they let me move in mid-month without charging for those two weeks.  This was already going better than I imagined it could.

The first time I looked at the condo, I asked how much of the stuff in the condo was staying.  There were beds, a dining room table, plates, cups, cookware, wall art, towels, linens, and much more.  No couch, chairs, or any other place for sitting.  But it had almost everything else.  She assured me that it would all be gone if I decided I wanted the place.  I explained that I was going through a divorce and only had a couple things to my name.  She said they would leave anything I needed.  No extra charge.  Even better.

When I showed up to sign the lease, the lady had brought back clean linens and towels that had been in the condo from when I first looked at it.  That’s the kind of people I was dealing with.  Awesome, terrific, people.  This was amazing.  I couldn’t believe how much they were going out of their way for me; how generous I felt they were being.  They didn’t know me.  They had no idea what I was going through and that in reality, I didn’t know myself if I was going to be able to maintain a job and pay my bills.  Why would they do all this?  Half month rent free.  Trusting that I would actually send the deposit and rent checks within a couple weeks.  Mostly furnished without charging extra.  Washing the linens and towels for me.  God was blessing me in a big way and using these awesome people to do it. 

And that little condo was awesome.  It was perfect for me.  Surprisingly inexpensive and it was on the bay.  My unit faced the pool, but I could walk around the other buildings to cast a fishing line, watch the sunset, or just relax by the water.  As great as it was, I was still financially unstable.  Shortly after moving in, I emptied my change jar so I could buy new underwear and some skid-resistant shoes for my job.  I went to one of those coin machines and dumped in the coins.  And to avoid the 4% fee of using the machine I opted for an Amazon eCard thing, which made the coin-changing process free.  I hate ordering shoes online, but at that time, I had to save every penny I could.  And a few months later, I saved enough to buy a used couch and a chair at a thrift store.  One of my kids still has that chair, eight years after I bought it used.

The place was shaping up nicely.  And even if most of the furnishings belonged to the landlords, it felt like home.  It felt like my place.  I was comfortable there.  It was a good place to be while continuing my mental recovery.  It was less than 10 minutes to work and just 3 miles to my kids.  They could come hang out on the weekends and enjoy the pool, play games, watch TV, play tennis, or sit by the bay.  I was still mostly broke, both emotionally and financially, but I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I was struggling, but I had become determined to overcome it all.

At the end of the first year, I texted my landlord and ask if I needed to do a new lease.  The one I signed was for 1 year and that was coming up fast.  I would certainly understand an increase in rent.  I was already paying far less than anywhere else outside of renting a mobile home somewhere, and even many of those listed for more than I was paying.  And I knew they had talked about selling before I took the place.  Maybe they wanted to move forward with that.  The response I got floored me.  She asked if I wanted to pay more for rent.  Of course, I said no.  She said, “Well, let’s just do month to month with the current price until you decide to leave.”  That was the kind of wonderful people I was dealing with. 

Three and a half years I lived in that little two-bedroom, one bath condo on the bay.  For three and a half years I continued to recover, continued to write, continued to work, continued to be close to my kids.  It was a good time in my life in a lot of ways.  And without the landlords taking a chance on me and letting me move in, I don’t know if that three and a half year period would have been as helpful.  I’m not sure I would be where I am today without them.  I feel like their generosity and grace gave me a solid foothold on life that I desperately needed at that exact time. 

There is a long list of people who helped me when I was down and out back then.  And the grand majority of those people are people I am related to, or served in the military with, or have known on a personal level prior to being at an all-time low point in my life.  But my landlords helped me as a stranger, a risk, a man who was trying to keep from drowning in the tidal waves he had made for himself.  I told them when I moved out how much I appreciated them, but I don’t think they have any idea to what extent they truly helped me.  I seriously doubt I would be where I am now without their help.  I don’t know if my life would have had the opportunity to be as good as it is now without them unknowingly helping me get here.

Sometimes we do things for people and don’t think it’s a very big deal.  And it may never cross our minds again.  But to that person it might mean the world.  It might be life changing.  You never know.  Do good when you can.  Show grace when you can.  The smallest or easiest gesture can make a huge difference to someone else.  Debbie and Johnny’s kindness changed the course of my life for the better.  And I am forever grateful to them.

Thanks for stopping by today.  Don’t give up on yourself.  Something good is coming.  Good day and God bless.

Dave

The view.

The chair.

Hello Again

Until earlier this month I hadn’t posted to Story of My Life in over 4 years.  I’ve been lazy with it.  But we’ll get to that shortly.  First, I want to look at how this all started and what it has become so far, and then move forward and explore where it can go from here.  It’s been a while, I might need a refresher. 

I started this blog in 2013, months before being deployed to Afghanistan.  The primary purpose of Story of My Life was to tell stories while deployed so that my family could follow along with some of my day-to-day activities, the stuff I was allowed to share anyway.  I made a few posts leading up to deployment.  And then I made a few posts while deployed.  This was the beginning of my blog, the early stages.  Then I went two years before making a new post in 2016. 

After coming home from Afghanistan, I spiraled into the lowest, rock-bottom place I’ve ever been in my life.  It was during a counseling/therapy session at the local Veterans Affairs clinic that I was asked what I like to do that makes me happy.  Writing.  I have always enjoyed writing.  It was suggested that I start writing again.  So, in 2016, I did.  I started writing again and posting to my blog.  And then some amazing things happened.  It unexpectedly took off.

When I came back to writing in 2016, I wrote for my own personal therapy, to clear my mind.  I wrote about my struggles after coming home from war.  I told some stories from when I was in Iraq and Afghanistan.  I occasionally mixed in some fiction, poetry, stories of my kids, and a couple funny posts.  And I shared them on my blog so my family could understand what was going on in my mind and what I was going through.  I wanted them to have an idea of what I and others endured while serving our country and especially how difficult it was coming home and trying to get back to being “normal” again.  At that time, it was mostly just a few family members that followed my blog.

But, as it turned out, my stories resonated with people out there in the blogosphere and Story of My Life began to get a following.  Somehow people were finding my blog.  People I didn’t know were commenting and messaging as to how one of my stories helped them or their veteran loved one or how they could relate to what I was saying, how I was being a voice on topics that they felt uncomfortable voicing themselves.  Not only was my writing helping me work through my own problems and issues, but it was also well received by others.  That made me feel good, like I was making a difference. 

So I kept writing.  And Story of My Life kept getting new readers.  In 2018 alone, my blog had over 186,000 views.  In just a single month in 2018 I had more views than the previous five years combined!  I was floored.  I never imagined my little blog would blow up like that.  That’s certainly not why I started it.  And then, for whatever reason, I stopped.  I didn’t post anything in 2019.  I did a few posts in 2020 and 2021. Then nothing.  Four years without doing anything on here.  I think I know why.

I got lazy?  I got tired?  I got busy?  I had other things to do?  Any or all of these could be a reason to stop.  It wasn’t from lack of motivation.  I have over a dozen pieces I started writing during my four years of down time.  A couple of them I even finished.  But I didn’t post any of them.  And it wasn’t from running out of ideas to write about.  I would lie in bed quite often thinking about stories and composing them in my head as I tried to go to sleep.  But I wouldn’t write them out like I used to.  Something changed. 

Discipline.  That’s what changed, or more accurately, lack of discipline.  I no longer had the discipline to write and post the way I did before.  Motivation without discipline doesn’t always produce the long-term outcome you might want.  For example, I have two dogs.  Sometimes I get very motivated to sweep the floors because of the amount of dog hair they leave throughout the house.  If I were disciplined, I would sweep the floors once a week and not let it get as bad.  But if I rely solely on being motivated to sweep, the floors will look like I have a dozen dogs and then take longer to clean.  I need to be disciplined with that chore.  And this example can be used for yard work, dishes, laundry, stuff for work or school, relationships, vehicle maintenance, or any task, relationship, or hobby that you’re working on. 

Motivation is temporal, meaning that it is only in the current moment and will fade, like my half-hearted posts in 2020 and 2021. Discipline is ongoing.  That means being dedicated and devoted.  Sometimes it means being on a schedule, having a plan, carrying out a plan, working through obstacles to achieve a goal.  Discipline is so much more than just having motivation, it means making something a priority.  For the two years I wrote and posted almost every single week, I had both motivation and discipline. My motivation helped me to have discipline. I worked my writing into my weekly schedule.  I dedicated time to getting it done, I made it a priority.  And here’s what changed for me as I took that long break from writing.

When I had started writing again in 2016, I saw and felt how it helped me.  It was therapeutic and in some ways it felt like I was releasing bad energy with each post and cleansing my mind.  It was both challenging and relaxing.  Sometimes it was deeply emotional and difficult.  But it gave me something to look forward to each week and I needed that back then.  All these things gave me motivation to write, and led to the discipline to keep it going for two years.  But it was in 2018 that my mind finally calmed from my lowest of low points just three years prior.  I was seeing life more clearly.  I had my mental demons under control with counseling and medication.  I took a really good job with benefits, had a nice place to live, and was doing well in life for the first time in a while.

I no longer needed to write for my own personal therapy, which is the whole reason I had been writing.  So, in 2018, when Story of My Life was as popular as it ever was, or likely will ever be again, I just stopped.  I no longer had the motivation or discipline to do it like I used to.  I would occasionally get a flash of motivation and start writing a new piece.  And a few times I would get just enough motivation to make a new post.  But, overall, I just wasn’t feeling it anymore.  I had lost my self-discipline when it came to writing. I didn’t “need” it anymore.

A lot has changed in the last few years for me and I am ready to instill some discipline back into my writing again and share some new stories.  Not because I need it for my own personal therapy, but because I miss writing.  I doubt I’ll post every single week like I did for those two years a while back, but I do have a deep desire to write again, even if it’s just for me and my own entertainment.  But I hope you will enjoy it, too.

I don’t know the exact direction Story of My Life will take, but I do plan to keep it going.  I recently went through my posts and enjoyed seeing the evolution of my writing, revisiting some of the things that inspired me to write.  Some of the posts made me smile, some brought a tear to my eye.  Not all my posts were pretty in subject matter or style, but each one of them is part of who I am and who I was at different times in my life.  And I want to keep doing that, to continue writing and telling stories.  You’re welcome to come along if you want, even if I don’t know yet where we’re going.  Thanks for stopping by today.  Good day and God bless.

Dave

Here’s the spoiled dogs that leave hair all over the place. My wonderful puppies.

My Offspring is Off-Springing

I know it’s been a while since I’ve been on here.  I’ve written a few things here and there but haven’t posted any of them.  I’ve come up with a plethora of ideas in my head of what I think would look good on Story of My Life, but haven’t taken the time to jot them down.  I’ve been lazy.  But I’ll get into that in a later post.  Today I have other news.

Late last year my son and his wife announced that they are expecting their first child.  The newest edition to our family will arrive in July.  Hey y’all, my offspring is off-springing!!  I am so very excited.  And it’s about time!  Most of my friends from high school have been grandparents for years now.  I’m 54 and becoming a first-time grandpa.  On a side note of sorts, my mother’s mother was 39 when I was born and made her a first-time grandparent.  When I was young, I thought my grandparents were old.  My grandchild will think I’m ancient!  LOL.  Or maybe I just feel ancient.

As I look forward to meeting my grandson in a few months I’m reminded of all the advice I received when I was becoming a dad.  And the very best advice I received during that time was from my dad, who I think was a very good and wise parent.  He said, “Take all the advice you get from everyone and throw it out the window.  Do what you know is right and everything will work out fine.  You got this.”

This was the perfect advice and I am passing it on to my son and his wife. This post is written to my son and his wife.  Don’t confuse this advice with not hearing what others have to say who have experience and might know a thing or two.  But instead, learn what is right as you go through parenthood.  Do what you feel is right, coupled with what you want to use from others.  None of us have all the answers about being a parent.  Only you will know in your heart what is right for your little family.  It will come to you, I promise.  It’s all a learning experience.  Take it all in and figure out what is best.  I interpret my dad’s advice to mean this: Don’t feel obligated by someone’s advice if you feel differently. 

That’s my advice.  Well, my dad’s advice.  And I did well with it.

But there’s plenty of other important things to share as well.  Consider this part more like storytelling and if you find something here you want to use as advice, take it.  Or, if you find something in the storytelling that didn’t work, you can learn from that as well.  I have often told my less flattering stories to my children in hopes they learn from my faults and save themselves some troubles.  But kids don’t listen.  You’ll learn that soon enough.  LOL!!

First of all, you will become a parent with very little experience.  Sure, you may have babysat, watched after siblings, volunteered in the nursery at church- but nothing will fully prepare you for having your own baby, a new life that completely depends on you.  The first time I ever changed a diaper was on my first child.  And I hadn’t studied how to do it and I had never done it before.  I was thrown into it.  The nurse said, “Dad, do you want to change her diaper?”  Turns out, it wasn’t that hard.  I figured it out on my first try! Too easy. But everything after that first diaper was a new, deeper challenge.  Changing a diaper was the very first step in a long road for me in learning how to be a parent.  Oh, the number of diapers I changed.  How can something so small and precious create a smell that could peel paint off the wall?  Get ready.

How do you know when to take the baby to the emergency room or wait it out?  How do you know when to let the baby “cry it out” when they are being fussy or when to coddle them?  How do you know when to start potty training?  How do you know when to let your child walk to school alone?  How do you know when to do this or that or whatever?  Here’s the catch.  You don’t know yet.  Sometimes you don’t know the right answer until you’ve already made a decision and see how it plays out.  You have to learn it all one first diaper at a time.  And you will make mistakes.  You will second-guess yourself sometimes.  But you will adjust as you learn.  And once you think you have something figured out, the baby changes it.  Which means that every once in a while you will go back and forth about something until you make a decision just to be done with it.  And that’s ok, too. Sometimes all you can do is flip a coin.  Just keep learning.  And to be honest, a lot of questions will answer themselves as the baby grows and you learn.  And after a while, you’ll have it all figured out.  But like I alluded to, the baby can sense that you figured it out and will change everything, creating new challenges.  It’s what they do.

Along with the excitement, fear, joy, and love that comes with becoming a parent, you will also get a dose of perpetual tiredness.  All my kids are now grown adults, taking on the world, and I’m still tired from when they were little.  This feeling of exhaustion…  just get used to it.  There will be late nights, early mornings, and everything in between.  You’ll have your hands full with the little one.  But you’ll still have to clean the house, take care of the dog, mow the yard, go grocery shopping, pay the bills, cook dinner… oh yeah, and don’t forget about going to work.  No matter how tired you feel, it is all worth it.  I have fond memories of falling asleep in a recliner with my children snuggled in my arms.  Best sleep ever!

Kids are very resilient growing up.  Yes, they are fragile, but you can’t keep them in a bubble.  They will get bumps, bruises, cuts, and scratches.  Of my six kids, we survived at least two broken bones, a golf club to the face, a tumble off of a piano with teeth puncturing the lip, a fall out of a tree, a pencil broken off into the heel of a foot, rolling off a bed on to hardwood flooring, slipping in the bathroom and bouncing a head off the tile which was bloody and gruesome.  This is a very small sample of what my kids survived and doesn’t even include the sports bumps and bruises they all had.  And even if I were to hover over each of my kids every minute of every day, very few of these injuries could have been avoided.  Kids are adventurous as they grow and learn, and sometimes those adventures will leave a mark. 

I believe my dad did a great job.  As I look back on my childhood, I don’t think I could have asked for a better father.  Even so, when I became a dad, I had a mental list of things I was going to do differently, things I didn’t like from when I was a kid.  However, as I “grew up” as a parent I realized my list of things my dad did well and did right was much longer than the list of things I wanted to change in my journey as a parent.  Maybe some of it was me understanding that parenting is a challenge, something we can not fully comprehend until we become a parent.  So, I hope your list eventually gets longer on the side of “Oh, dad was right, I get it now.”  There are plenty of things I could have done better.  If you want that list, let me know.  And that’s one of the funny things about learning as a first time parent, you can’t usually know how things will turn out until later.  But I’m very happy and proud of how my kids turned out, so maybe I did a few more things right than I thought I did.  Here’s the bottom line.  Do your parenting out of love and what’s best for the child.  And even then, not all of your decisions will be perfect.  And that’s perfectly fine. 

This new chapter of your life is going to be the best rollercoaster ride you could ever be on.  My Son, I loved watching you grow up as a child into a teen and then into an adult.  Now I get to watch you grow as a dad and I couldn’t be more proud.  And always keep this in mind, “Do what you know is right and everything will work out fine.  You got this.”  Y’all got this!

I love y’all.  The two of you will be great parents.  God bless!

Dad