Instead, they wanted to travel the world together. They were on a southwestern road trip, one of many trips they had taken since they met. He'd always thought of her as his muse and guide to be a better man, a better human, his Beatrice, the one who guided Dante through hell, purgatory and into heaven -- in The Divine Comedy.
On this particular southwest road trip, they visited ruggedly beautiful national parks, hiked everywhere and had a great time together. Maybe it was the Nevada desert where they started in Las Vegas. Or, maybe the harrowing hike they made only halfway to Angel's Landing in Zion National Park.
Or, maybe it was just that time slowed to a crawl in each step they took exploring every place they stopped, causing some transcendental shift and rift in their space-time continuums. Maybe they were just both thinking more about their future together and what it may look like with children. Not really talking about, just thinking about it.
Then something more shifted inside of her in Bryce Canyon one night while watching the sunset over the glorious orange-red rocks and hoodoo spires. These rock formations that took millions of years to form, and what have also been called fairy chimneys. Maybe she was inspired by ancient magical hoodoo fairies; maybe we both were. No matter what it was, that was when the superhero was born, although she didn't know it yet.
The week after they returned home from this road trip, they were sitting comfortably at the bar of their favorite watering hole pub, playing Scrabble, drinking beer and eating burgers.
She turned to him and said, "So, do you want to have a baby?"
He paused, then looked up and said, "Sure."
The "they" was "us," and even though the hoodoo magic turned a little anti-dramatic, a year and 4 months later, our oldest Beatrice was born. A year and 11 months after that, Bryce was born. The superhero Mom, my wife Amy, had come to be. A lot of life has passed since then, some of which continues to be documented in this blog, Get Off The Ground.
Amy does so much for our family. Over the years, whether she was working a job outside of the house or not, she was always working. Is always working. Will always be working. Raising our children. Helping them with school. Cleaning the house. Shopping for groceries. Taking the time to figure out how to fix things around the house that I just want to hire someone to do. And so much more.
Since March 2020, getting through the day to day pandemic life hasn't been easy for so many people, so many parents with children. And there have been so many women leaving the workforce to take care of their families, a lot more than men have.
We've been grateful as a couple because we fared much better overall. Amy and I were able to work from home this past year. And there's been zero work travel for me, which pre-covid was about two work trips per month. So, both of us being able to work from home was helpful since both our daughters were distance learning from March 2020 to April 2021, and are only now just back to school in person.
And yet, no matter how much I help as Husband and Dad, which I've done and continue to do, she still did and does a lot more, plus working her job at Kidpower.
Even after all she's done for us, she's Superhero Mom because of how she's always led with eyes of love and empathy. How her powers accelerated after we had our daughters. And then again after she joined Kidpower. How she along with Kidpower instructors from all over the world, many of them mothers, help to empower so many kids, teens and adults with emotional and physical safety skills, boundary setting and more.
We're both the safetyists for sure, as our girls call us. But without that sunset over those magical hoodoo spires all those years ago, without the birth of Superhero Mom, our family would not be here today. We're blessed to have her love and leadership. Thank you, Amy. We love you.
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