The "I'm Getting a Package" Package

Birthdays sometimes are sad. We mailed Tommy some things he absolutely loved on his birthday. And we talked several times over the phone, but we planned on sending some clothes for the kids, just in time for that brief period in Minnesota, summer.

It's a beautiful time. People aren't grouchy. You can hear the sound of song birds. Meadow larks join with frogs and kill deer to make a beautiful impression just as the sun sets. It is a nice time of year.

Ann and I found some great things on sale for the girls, and the two dresses--one for Anna and another in the same style for Samantha--looked like what they would like.

Oh, and I found this hat that I knew Anna would love. It was a light brown little hat, a Hedda Hopper meets Janis Joplin. Lydia told us that Anna loved it.

When I called after Tommy's birthday and talked with both Tommy and Anna, Lydia said that Anna handed her the phone when she finished talking, and with confidence and pride she said, "I'm getting a package."

It's fun making grandchildren smile, but enough of this "girly" stuff too. I found some great Jimi Hendrix T-shirts for both girls. That will be something we'll get this next week. We'll take them to Minnesota with us, when we go out in early June.

We Be Stylin'

My grandchildren are like their Grandma Annie--extremely camera shy.

These pictures found our little ones in Minnesota having some fun. I only wish there were a film clip, so that I could hear the laughing, that I know they were doing during this picture.

When I talked to Lydia the other night, Little Samantha now shows she has developed a personality, and at this point, she is "high maintenance." She didn't like her mom not paying attention to her, so suddenly I heard this growl. She was growling at the phone.

"Put the phone on speaker, Lydia." I started growling loudly, and Samantha stopped immediately. But Tommy and Anna laughed hysterically. Lydia laughed too.

"Dad, Samantha's eyes are as big as silver dollars." I then continued between Samantha's growls, and once I did Pop Pop Wolfman's howl. Tommy and Anna liked that too.

Grandchildren are fun. It makes me smile to know that I didn't get my wish that I had when all three of my own children were teens. I told a faculty room full of teachers that some days I regretted not having taken at least three or four leaps per day onto the bar of my red Schwinn bike from the time I was 8 until well into my teenage years. They thought that was funny. There is nothing funny about teenagers.

These little ones are too much fun. And like Samantha and even Tommy, when he was small, I like to growl too--and occasionally howl at the moon. Owwwwooooo000000ooo!

Jack and My Mom's Cookies

Jack met his Grandma Carolyn early. This was not the first visit, but it was one where he enjoyed being held by my mom. We began making stops when he was very young, and he was only a bit older than one here. This is about six weeks before we took our first trip to Disneyland--one of the most magical trips of my life. It was one with both my little grandsons, and it was a time when we stayed very inexpensively in a very expensive Disney Hotel: the one at the edge of California Adventure Park. It's the same lodging that looks so much like the lodge at Old Faithful.

When Jack was just a bit older and could talk, I would whisper to tell grandma to make some cookies. She had given him some fresh ones at one visit, so it wasn't a difficult thing for him to do. But I only had to do that once. After that, he asked each time.

This past weekend, Jack and I drove to Malad to see my mom before Mother's Day, and while there, we sat in the kitchen and talked while Jack watched television. He came into the kitchen.

"Pop Pop. I think I can smell cookies." He wrinkled his nose and smelled, but there weren't any fresh cookies. A couple of flat, metal baking sheets lay on the cabinet in one spot, but there was nothing there.

"Shhhh." I gave Jack the look, and told him to watch TV. He made his request softly, and I hoped my mom didn't notice. Jack did that three times in the next 50 minutes while we sat in the kitchen. Mom's back was to him, so I hoped that she didn't notice. For me, I don't want my little ones coaxing for something like that.

There were a lot of things to do that day, and several hours later, when we returned to my mom's house, she walked to her fridge and freezer, as soon as she heard me say we were on our way home. Mom pulled out a large bag of cookies she had in the freezer.

Jack smiled. His eyes sparkled with contentment. It was a "grandma moment" for Jack, a time to be pampered and spoiled with something he will always remember. It's what grandmas do.

Erma's Fridge--a Favorite Destination for my Three Kids

I grew out of patience with my children when we visited Erma's house one visit. I don't remember which one of my three did it, but they made a "beeline" for the refrigerator and stood looking at the food on the shelves.

Without knowing why they did it, Erma assured me that everything was alright. She had everything ready for our visit. There were chocolate puddings in small dishes with lids and a huge two or three layer cake--usually chocolate--sitting there for them too.

I remember the summer of 1970, when Ann and I just finished our junior year in high school. We had just started to date, and during the summer, our Sunday School class would go swimming at Downata Hot Springs once a week. My dad made sure we were in Malad on those nights, and the class always requested that Ann's mom bake us one of her chocolate cakes. That was the same type of cake she made our kids some 12 years later.

That's why grandmas are fun. They do things like that.

Flat Tommy's School Visit In Idaho Falls

Personally, I have good memories of school lunch and then there are those of which a Latin term best illustrates the idea: ad nauseum.

At Jack's school, however, the new visitor was a hit with the babes in Jack's first grade class. Maybe it was because Tommy's shorts was the same color that they wore at the time or a color of something that would match what they wore. Regardless, they just couldn't keep their hands off "flat Tommy."

It was cheeseburger day, and in honor of Tommy's love for chocolate milk, everyone seemed to want to drink the same thing.

Now I've visited the school during lunch and have taken a seat with Jack at the table. The noise is reasonable. I mean it's not like the Pink Floyd concert I attended in Stuttgart, Germany, that advertised a potential for permanent hearing loss without wearing "ear protection," but it was still a small room with tiny people and high pitched voices.

I have an advantage here. Maybe it's years of driving a Caterpillar D-6 Series C tractor which may have modified my hearing, or maybe it's my selective hearing loss my wife says I have.

"Jonie," she says just before damning me all to hell and continuing, "You only hear what you shouldn't or what you want to hear."

But I maintain that that lunchroom wasn't loud. But only dogs and dolphins can possibly decipher those high pitched tones expressed in excitement of coloring primitive art, playing tag at recess, contemplating joy in every breathing moment. It must be fantastic to be young.

I can't remember.

But it was a great day for Tommy at Edgemont Elementary in Idaho Falls.

Hoping that May 6, 2010 has Better Weather in Minnesota

Before Jack went to school

today, we had him hold up our

"flat Tommy" in front of him on the front lawn for a quick birthday picture.

Today is Tommy's birthday.

There was about an inch of snow on the ground, and it continues to offer flurries. The sky is grey. It's 37 degrees outside right now. The chirp of robins took a sad tone early this morning.

I chose not to whine about it. I'm beyond whining--just "ticked" about my hopes for spring.

I can never remember a time in my life when May had cold weather for this long, and it looks to continue. I just hope Tommy had a great birthday in Minnesota today, with smiles and cake and presents and friends. Birthdays are fun when you're under the age of 21.

And I will post happier moments to commemorate my birthday grandson's day throughout the next 10 hours or so. I just hope Tommy had a fantastic day today.

It's been a busy week for "flat Tommy," but there have been some moments of fun too, which included a visit to the Idaho Falls Public Library.

There were computer games. Jack likes those, and he enjoys the books there too, especially those of some "dragon" series.

I finished one with him last night, so we'll be taking another trip within the next few days.

There are always Star Wars books, and when in doubt, Goosebumps is an option too. Grandma isn't sold on those, and occasionally Jack has a nightmare after hearing a story from one just before he goes to sleep.

But there were other places in Idaho Falls that were interesting too, like Sub Zero. They make ice cream in this business with liquid nitrogen, so a visit there is like reaping the benefits of learning about science and eating something that tastes great but isn't good for you all at the same time.

But I guess ice cream does provide nutrition, since milk products are part a basic food group, yet I also occasionally view Dots or Sweet Tarts or Sour Patch Kids as satisfying the fruit requirement, and when ice cream isn't an option, there's always Mild Duds.

Last Friday, Jack was excited to take "flat Tommy" to show and tell. That was an eventful day. Grandma went with Jack to school to take pictures of this activity in the opening minutes of class.

Then we made a trip to get a yellow polo shirt for the elementary choir program performance, which began just before the end of the school day. We had his practice soccer shirt, but we wanted something else.

Jack wanted to have a polo like Tommy.

Then on Saturday, we decided on a number of activities--like the Farmers Market--one near the river and a second one near the mall.

Teton Mall's market had something particularly fun--a couple of young Germans from Frankfurt, who recently moved to Idaho Falls. They will be selling Bratwurst each Saturday.

It's the birth of another new Saturday tradition, and "flat Tommy" did all of that with us, but I don't think he would have eaten a brat.

The next stop was at the comic book store, where Star Wars characters were to be there for photo opportunities, but it didn't happen, so we went home.

Plans change. We wanted to take "flat Tommy" to Yellowstone Park, but the weather was even colder there than in Idaho Falls. Staying home wasn't a difficult decision. My idea of winter is sitting up to my neck in my hot tub in water heated at 106 degrees.

I don't think "flat Tommy" will be there for that, but Pop Pop will like the warm water.

But "flat Tommy" was able to see some great things in Idaho, like Pickle's Place in Arco. Jack and I ate there once.

The food was great. The atmosphere was like I would imagine at any tiny town isolated from the world. I listened curiously at some foreigners at the table next to us and found it interesting, that they would not only eat at a "little known" diner in a remote place, but that they would so easily blend in with "red neck" America with ragged jeans and hunting orange.

Then I realized they weren't foreign. They were aboriginal citizens of Arco, and when I finally began to understand their creative use of the English language, I determined a number of things--they didn't like outsiders, they hated teachers, they liked to kill animals, even at the expense of losing a job. Joblessness seemed less of a concern than satisfying bloodlust for anything that crawled or believed that wolves were an essential part of the ecosystem.

I could live with everything but one item. They didn't serve wild game, so it wasn't a problem. I was a hunter once. I believe that wolves keep wild game healthy and free from diseased animals, and when they kill domestic animals, I support farmers in their right to be reimbursed. But a hate for teachers is something I can't put up with, so I decided to eat at the only other restaurant in town, until I determined that they shared all of those cultural eccentricities: especially a hatred for teachers.

The good news is that there is one of those taco wagons, a renovated bus or even a motor home of any type, that became refitted by Hispanic immigrants to serve incredible Mexican food. It's great. Besides, they recognize the need for their children to get an education in order to succeed in modern society.

This picture was important for "flat Tommy" to see, because when these three Buttes erupt to the same time to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy, you know you have a "weather" closure at any area school. It's like Hades spills flame and ash, but it also has to happen in the deep of winter. That way, superintendents can know that they only cancelled school when "Hell froze over."

What's a visit to Idaho without driving by the nuclear laboratory. In the movie Overboard, Kurt Russell described the area as Gooberville, Idaho--a place near a toxic nuclear waste dump. I guess he and Goldie once ate at Pickles Place too.

From "flat Tommy's" smile, he enjoyed the ride with grandma on her way through the Idaho desert on the way to see Craters of the Moon. I'm still not sure whether it's a part of the National Park System or belongs to some other type of designation. My having hauled lava rocks on a farm really affected my love affair with any nature reserve that offers panoramic vistas of patches of rocks.

And what would a trip to Idaho be like without taking a picture of a "spud cellar?" It's like going to New York and not recognizing the Empire State Building. Potato is king here.

My Beautiful Granddaughter Samantha

Ann was able to be with the grandchildren in January, and during that time, she spent a good deal doing something she loved--cuddling our new little one in her arms. It was a child's glimpse of the spoiling that Grannie Annie would continue to do.

And as for me, I still look forward to seeing her and getting a chance to hold her. But at least then she will be older, so I won't feel the usual tension I feel when holding a baby.

While I do it, I worry that I am holding them too hard and hurting them somehow. Of course, it doesn't help things when I see that spot on a baby's head that throbs with each tiny beat of a heart. After a short time, I always ask Annie to hold the baby.

I was that way with my own children, and I continue to have those feelings now. I remember my dad saying that too.

I have noticed, however, that those weird feelings of paranoia are not like they were years ago. Having grandchildren changes a person. You no longer feel some of those fears, and you feel overcome with the joy of being able to spoil a child and then send him home for parents to deal with the consequences.

But even then, I don't like seeing them go home. Whenever I have grandchildren in my home, I savor each moment. In cases where I haven't seen them in a long time and it takes a long time to get them to Idaho Falls, I am so excited to see them, that I forget about those fears I have felt for decades.

I'm always sad when I see them leave, but that's a good sign. Loving grandchildren is not something difficult for me. I enjoy every minute with them, and I savor every experience.

Soccer In Minnesota

I remember reading a copy of a type of Parade

Magazine, which game with Sunday's Salt Lake

Tribune in the late 60's or early 70's. The two articles I read during different weeks made two interesting predictions: first, it talked about how money in America would soon change in both size and color, and secondly, soccer would soon emerge as America's number one sport.

Now, there is still talk about changing the color and size of American paper money, because counterfeiting is too frequent a business, yet it never happens. I remember reading that article and thinking how absurd it would be to have money of different colors and shapes, and then in 1972, I began a two-year stay in Germany, where the smallest bill, which was only about three or four inches in length was green, the next was a bit larger and was blue, and then--as I remember so long ago--the next one, which was a 20 DM was green. Then the 50 was brown. The hundred was blue, and the thousand was quite large and blue. It was twice the size of one of our bills.

In spite of how well in worked in Europe, tradition still plays a dominant role in our culture, even if it is one that has no logical or even practical explanation.

Soccer also never became the number one sport in America like the article predicted; however, I saw it begin to be a factor in high school athletics in the early 90's. Today, it's popularity is even greater on the high school level, and Salt Lake has a professional team.

But in the last two years, I've seen something else. The play among children is at a level, which is higher than I watched in high school games in the 90's.

The way that little ones bring the ball down the field, the way that they pass, dribble, shoot is unbelievable.

But what I like most is that size is not a factor. It's all about agility and speed and ball handling and team work, and in most cases, officiators call a game with a better eye on the field--not allowing anything to happen that would hurt a player.

Tommy and Jack both play, and I love watching. It's frustrating not to see my Tommy play, but these pictures are incredible.

The funny thing is the fact that I talked to Tommy on the phone just a short time before this game began. He was so excited to play. And there will be a time when I will be able to watch.

Regardless of what I need to do, I will see a couple of these games, maybe not this year, but I will do it.

And I'll watch Anna too. She starts next week.

But for now, we'll be doing local stuff. Jack plays on Tuesdays, and he practices every Thursday.

It is fun to see little ones get so excited about it, but even more importantly, it's fun to see adults work to help young people excel.

I love seeing the excitement and hearing the joy of the game in the voice of my grandchildren as they talk about upcoming games.

Perchance to Dream?

A bad dream roused me out of sleep twice: once at 3:15 a.m. and a second time two hours later. By then, I couldn't go back to sleep.

I embraced the addictive screen of facebook and began working on a farm with an Irish Castle, Stonehenge, ski lodge surrounded by redwood trees and an Italian villa. You would think that something like that would take care of things.

It took me at least thirty minutes to realize just how the dream horrified me.

The dream found me at the front of a classroom, doing a presentation. The equipment failed to work, and even before that happened, I remember approaching the situation unprepared.

That's something that I never allowed to happen, so that is worth at least a higher pulse rate.

When the brief Powerpoint failed, I gave up and stood briefly before taking a seat. I just gave up. That's something else I would never do. There would have been a backup plan, although I had one situation where not only did the emergency backup plan fail, but two or three other things did too.

That seminar I did, where the equipment was less than ideal, also had a second disadvantage. The group in the room never showed signs of life, except of course for one individual during lunch, and that was a lactose intolerant person, who probably didn't notice the cheese in a sandwich. I noticed how the sleep in his eyes swept away like the tide, just after an enormous growl echoed across the room. He ran toward porcelain relief.

But this dream was truly a nightmare. You have to be a school teacher to have something like this disturb you.

My other nightmare, which occurs occasionally, is when I dream that I enrolled in a graduate level course and forgot to attend or drop the class. When I was in graduate school, I did research and read books a semester in advance. I would go to the professor and get a syllabus for the class at least a semester early, which gave me a decisive advantage.

I would never have been in this situation either.

But thank goodness for something that successfully drove the bad vibes from my thoughts.

14 Things That I Love Doing For My Sweetie

1. My father taught me something crucial--an idea that is fundamental in a relationship: understanding that working together is something you do for someone you love. And my dad taught me never to feel that gripping the handle of a vacuum cleaner or picking up a dish towel was less than manly.

When we worked on the farm, dad used specific moments to reinforce that idea. For example, whenever my mother drove a wheat truck, when we both were busy with equipment and doing other things, he would show me how mom helped us and how we needed to do the same. Mom would bring us meals to the field, and it was never a simple meal. There were always things that tasted so incredible, and it was warm. Mom would wrap everything in newspaper, which kept chilled things cold and hot things warm. Everything was always the perfect temperature.

I've done what my father suggested, and some of my favorite moments have found my Annie and me in spots where we did things together, whether it was preparing meals--both simple and complex, or whether it was cleaning dishes--both small and more time-consuming. Being together and working that way was something we just did.

It's how things work.

2. Respecting in-laws was something my wife found easy to do, because she has always treated everyone with respect. It was her trademark as a teacher. The only educators who ever had issues with my Sweetie were people who needed to have issues. They wanted to be difficult, but my Annie never game them the satisfaction.

She understood that retaliation through an angry reaction just made her a mirror image of those who created problems. My Annie took the higher ground.

When it comes to things at work, occasionally, Ann waited until we were home from a restaurant or a movie, and then she'll say something like, "You know that teacher, whom we met, who acted so strangely? That was the one I told you about."

I never forget a face, and after the initial message of just what they did so rudely, I usually react like Ann knows I will. It's why she never tells me until I am far enough away. Ann also makes me promise that I will not embarrass her by telling them what is on my mind. I love my Sweetheart, and so I do not retaliate, but if they are stupid enough to do something rudely in front of me, I figure the deal's off.

And like my father taught me from his example, I never accept anyone treating my wife disrespectfully in my presence. Dad never allowed anyone to do that with his mother or wife. Dad was the ultimate example of what a male should teach his son.

3. In reference to my wife refusing to be negative with those who are difficult at work. People, who react in a positive way, like my wife, are in a small minority, and in the work Ann does now at the state level, her reputation is one of being able to work with anyone, regardless how impossible the task seems. Respecting people is what she does. It's another reason I love her.

It's also a reason it was never difficult to treat my in-laws so well. She treated my family respectfully, and I have done the same thing.

4. Holding hands is something I have not done as much since being very sick. It's not that I don't love her like I always have. It's because I'm afraid of falling and making both of us hit the ground, and that's not a joke on my part. I tend to trip, but I usually catch myself, but when I don't, I make a big splash.

It scares those who see it, like the time my grandson Jack saw me fall in the garage.

Between chemo and my need to play football in high school, the two things left me in a horrible physical condition.

5. But public displays of affection occasionally happen spontaneously from me. I love road trips with my Sweetie, and when we're on the road, regardless whether it's a long drive or just a short distance to the store, I often enjoy taking her hand in mine before I kiss it and nibble at the knuckles ever so tenderly. It makes her giggle, kind of nervously. "Don't be so soft," she says to me, but I think she likes it. Holding her hand isn't out of the question either. Being near her always made me feel like static electricity. I'm still not too old for that kind of electrical shock.

Few people understand that my feelings were like that, because I always kept them to myself. Most people laugh at the notion of my being "sensitive." But crying is something I never do, except when Wingers took the paddy melt off the menu. Now that was an emotional moment.

I don't do things that embarrass my wife publicly like I once did. There was this time when Ann and I were with some German exchange teachers in Logan at a large convenience store. A song began playing, and I took my Annie in my arms and started to dance in the aisle. It was a funny moment rather than a romantic scene. We have always had fun together.

6. Working at a marriage is essential, but I never considered it a job. It was something I did, because it was just plain fun. Being together is what we prefer.

Having fun together was something we've done on multiple continents and during every moment of our marriage, like in this picture at the German-American Volksfest in Berlin in the early 80's.

Sometimes situations weren't all that fun, but my Annie always helped made it that way.

7. Sometimes marriage is one hell of a roller coaster ride, and making it even more complex is the fact that my Sweetie and I have similar ancestry: Welsh and Scandinavian. Between the Druids and the Vikings, there are rare moments when we decide that a line has to be drawn in the sand, but it is not something that happens frequently.

Maybe the fact that we both "air" feelings openly and honestly is why our relationship remains healthy. However, part of what makes our marriage work is the fact that our love for each other never makes it worth hurting each other in order to be "right" about something.

Maybe that's why our marriage remains so strong, because we "air out" differences when they happen, yet both of us are careful when we etch the mark between us in the sand.

Ironically, after 36 years, I actually look forward to my Sweetie "damning me all to hell," because sometimes it happens when I tease her, and besides, anyone who knows me also knows I need it on occasion, but those people who know me very well also know how tender I am in regards to any type of discussion about my Annie. It's because those people, who know me well, have also seen me deal with people and situations, when I was very clear about telling someone the path they should take to the "netherworld." I was never hesitant or incapable of giving a person an idea of just what was on my mind.

It's important to understand what the two of us have learned during this incredible 36-year journey: just because we have a difference of opinion doesn't mean we need counseling. Besides, I apologize quickly during rare occasions when we have different points of view, even if I think I'm right, because again, hurting someone you love isn't worth that silly type of satisfaction.

8. Surprising her is something I enjoy, but I married someone who is very "low-maintenance." She not only does not like me spending money to impress her, but she also finds it irritating, so my best surprise is going to a movie or visiting a favorite restaurant or writing her a love poem.

The last option is what she prefers. I do it every Valentine's Day and try to write something on her birthday as well. I enjoy giving her roses, but she doesn't like that either.

Pretentious is worth an ounce of horse manure is not just a quote from one of her favorite movies, but it is also something that defines her. Her philosophy is this: is what you do something you do to impress me, or is it something you need to do to impress other people?

I find it difficult, but I do as she wishes.

Funny thing is how she surprises me. She once surprised me with a trip to Greece. Then there were the many trips to California, and even though my compulsion to buy 60's music is an irritation, she still does it for me. She does it because she loves me, and we do things like that for each other.

I'm just glad we traveled when we did, a time when we both were able to walk without physical problems that limited mobility. Now just being with grandchildren or just sitting down to watch something together is a great moment during any day.

9. Giving her hugs is such a simple thing, but I do it, so that she never questions how much I love her.

This picture is the low point of my life. I knew I was in trouble when my Annie tried to cheer me up with a new release of John Lennon's accoustic works, and I asked her to take it back, because I really didn't need any more music. Now I can't believe I said that, but at the time, I was very sick. I was very sad at the thought of what might happen.

My doctor, who by the way was also a very good friend, gave me two weeks to two months. When being frank about my situation at that time, he had tears in his eyes.

My Annie never gave up on me, and in spite of how depressed I was during that battle with cancer, I refused to give up--not because I was afraid of death, but because I couldn't bear the thought of being without my Sweetheart for any time at all, and besides I still live with the hope that I will survive to be there for her like she was for me during those "dark times."

10. Giving hugs is what you do when you love someone. Walter Mathau once described how he would raise children: "Cover then with kisses and

smother them with love."

That's pretty much my mission statement. It's how I treat my soul mate, and it's how I relate to my beautiful grandchildren as well.

People who talk schedules or checklists, when it comes to expressing love in an intimate way, need some serious counseling. They should stick to raising house pets, because being a slave to some list like that is like not hugging your Sweetheart at all.

I do it because I love her, and I do it as often as I can, because I love her.

Our favorite recording artist Neil Young once wrote: "To give a love, you've got to live a love. To live a love, you've got to be part of."

It's what you do when you love someone.

11. I don't know if I changed my Sweetie, because I loved her as long as I can remember, and at my age, the remember thing should be a challenge, but I still have a long memory, and I know this: she forever changed my life in so many ways. Being with her is like a part of heaven.

And how did my Sweetie change my life? Her manner has taught me to maintain a positive stance in the face of insurmountable reasons to do otherwise. It's what she does, and it's what she encourages me to do.

The worst difference of opinion we ever had was when she encouraged me to complete a MA degree in English rather than mess with simple college credits that didn't apply to that goal. She was out of patience with my taking classes merely climbing a bit higher on a salary schedule. They were credits that meant little if anything at all, especially if you changed districts or ever earned a higher degree.

She was right, and my MA degree in English changed my career.

Education is such an incredible force for good. People always encouraged me to do it, but my Sweetheart was always there to ensure that I actually did it.

12. Every day I feel overwhelmed at how blessed I am to have her in my life. I realize during every waking moment why I love her.

It's the look she gives me first thing in the morning. There is no question in my mind, and she doesn't have to say anything, because I know she loves me.

It's the concern she has for me. It's the look in her eyes when she looks at me.

It's the hope she has that I will always be here for her. Those are things that helped me stay alive when the Grim Reaper had his grip on the rear pockets of my jeans.

13. But there is one more thing that is important to consider. Treating her well is something I hope I do every minute. It's because it's what I choose to do. It's what my father taught me to do as I watched him create a loving relationship with my mother.

14. And because I'm Welsh, I'm also a bit superstitious, so I can't end this list with just an unlucky number of items. Doing all these things is not a sacrifice. It's what you do when two people love each other.