How I Met Your Father - A Letter to My Future Heathens
I’m not pregnant and I’m not trying to hint at anything…I just thought it would be fun to write a post from a future perspective. I also want to capture how I feel about Mac now before we get in over our heads and take each other for granted (although I hope we never do that).
I’m writing this letter to you long before I meet you because I know I’ll reach a point in my life where I forget about the important stuff while I obsess about day-to-day living. I just want to make sure I get all this down before then.
I met your dad on a crisp, fall day in November. He was rushing around the new house in a way that only he can seem to pull off: frantic, scattered, graceful, and happy. Sometimes, the graceful part was a bit of a stretch (like the time he twisted his ankle on the stairs while carrying a load of laundry). We were both moving into my brother’s house (your Uncle Johnny) that weekend, and we had never really met before then. We knew of each other because your dad was already friends with Uncle Johnny, and I knew your dad had a twin because he and your Uncle Alan were always referred to as “the Rohr Twins”. I didn’t really know anything else about him, other than that he had just moved from Texas and he knew how to play a few instruments.
The first few weeks of living with three other dudes were an entirely different thing for me. It was a pig-sty most of the time, and the dynamic between the three of them was incredibly entertaining. Johnny and Jesse had girlfriends and were frequently out with them or busy doing other things, so your dad and I spent a lot of time on separate couches, sharing a bottle of wine and watching South Park (and you’re not allowed to watch South Park until you live on your own). We were both single and comfortable that way, and it was really easy for both of us to share snippets of our life experiences with each other. I had just gone through a long-overdue breakup after being engaged and finally getting the courage to call it quits, so I was a little emotionally unstable at times. Your dad never seemed to mind that I was a hot mess, and he always had a way of making me feel better without even trying.
We lived together for a few months, and things were good. Your dad and I were in the living room one night when he mentioned that the Wombats were going to play in St. Louis and he wanted to go see them, so I invited myself to go with him because I didn’t want him to go alone. He wasn’t weird about it, and we agreed that someone would pay for the tickets and the other one would pay for drinks. It wasn’t supposed to be a first date - it was just roommates going to a concert together.
Well, the rest is history.
So far, there are a handful of moments with your dad that really stand out. I never want to forget them, even though I know I’ll be cramming my memory with so many new ones as we grow older and saggier together. One of my favorite ones was when we were visiting Texas. Your dad wanted to show me all the awesome things that he’d been bragging about for months, and we finally took a trip after your Grandpa John passed away. I was still a mess, but it was nice to get away for a little bit and focus my attention on something else. On our second night in Texas, your dad took me to the same exact restaurant that he took three previous dates to. He told me that little fun fact, and then he told me, “but you’re my favorite one”. So I guess that made it okay.
The next night, we went to this restaurant in Gruene that was next to a mill on a river. We sat as close to “waterfront” as possible, and we both ordered steaks. This wasn’t on my bucket list, but cutting up a filet mignon and feeding it to stray cats as stealthily as possible may have been one of my most favorite things I’ve ever done with your dad. I don’t know anyone else who would have fun doing that at a nice restaurant besides your dad and I. I’ve always admired his love for animals (even though he’ll say he doesn’t like cats).
When your Grandpa John was really sick and getting ready to make his trip to heaven, your dad spent every night after work taking care of me. He made sure we had all of the basics taken care of so we could spend the last few days focusing on loving and caring for your grandpa. He never once complained about it, either. Your dad is one of the most dependable, reliable, loving people I’ve ever met, and I hope that is something you inherit from him.
He is not much of a romantic, which is great for me because you know how easy it is for me to be uncomfortable when things are more serious than they need to be. He is a goofball, and it’s one of my favorite things about him. He’s also practical when he gives gifts, but thoughtful enough to let you know he was really thinking about what would make your life easier. One of the first Christmas gifts he gave me was an alarm clock that would light up to mimic sunlight, because he knew how much I hated trying to wake up in the dark. That is why we don’t have any blackout curtains in our house (in case you were wondering).
There are so many things that I admire about your dad, and I hope you are able to see them on a regular basis. I’m sure he will embarrass you when he wears his Texas flag fanny pack on our family bike rides, or when he sounds like Mrs. Doubtfire whenever he talks to the dogs. He’s really a good man. I hope you recognize and appreciate the love he has for you, and I hope you don’t make his hair fall out any faster than it has to.
Your (future) Mom