When nothing makes sense and I am not quite sure what my purpose on this crazy planet is, thank the heavens I have a partner, who likes me just the way I am.

We spent the weekend in Moab and every single night Big Daddy agreed participate in our nightly movie rental. It was awesome and watching movies was exactly what we (I) needed to do to end the day.

This morning began with Dave showing Kyle the ropes at Slickrock Bike Trail, and they both rocked it. Way to go! It was so cool seeing the confidence and pure joy in Kyle’s eyes as he described how, “Mom, I would stop and walk it the angle was steeper than 45 degrees.” Our hikes at Arches National Park later today were delightful, and so what if I nearly blew a major blood vessel watching Dave climb up the super scary cliff. He made it! Oh thank God he did!

See, here is why Dave rocks my world. It was Friday early afternoon of our frist day here. We got a late start and Dave was less than thrilled. I had already freaked out because I left my phone at the condo, and insisted Dave go back. Then we both bit our tongues and we compromised. We drove back to the condo and decided to wait until nighttime to run my errand. We made it to the Monitor and Merrimac Bike Trail. Dave patiently took all four bikes off the rack and proceeded to put all four wheels on while I made a stop Nature’s Bathroom.

We were on our way and when I saw the deep sand and craggy trail, I was pissed and wanted to go back. Eli was on a new bike and was also freaking out. Then the phone call came. Dave received an important business call in the middle-of-wherever-we-were. “Really? Really” I thought. The kids and I threw our bikes to the ground and climbed a gigantic rock formation. Dave was a tiny speck yet I could still see him talking away. Once off the phone he called out to us. We took our sweet time climbing down and asked if we should just go bak to town. Gently he encouraged us through the cattle gate and said, “If we can just make it up this hill, I promise we can turn back.” We made it through the crazy sand and up the giant hill. Then more encouragement came. “Let’s go a little farther. You want me to show you how to change your gears?” He gently asked.
“Nope! No I don’t” I stiffly responded.

He stayed, always quietly by my side. Honestly, I do not know any other person who would have so kindly listened to me (and Easy E, for that matter) scream-shriek-bitch-whine for the first 75% of our long mountain bike ride (not super long, really) through that thick, thick sand (very true), and treacherous uphill-biking conditions (not really, but I did do a lot of strenuous uphill accompanied by a fair amount of huffing and puffing). As we were approximately fifty-seven percent complete I felt myself relax and started to unwind enough so that I could breathe. Eli had also let go of his new-bike anxiety and was seriously feeling the thrill of biking all the way. “Mom, this isn’t so bad. It is actually really fun now that I am more comfortable with my new bike.” Go figure. Frankly, so was I. Dave never tried to out do me. He never tried to compete or tell me what an awesome mountain biker he is (he actually is a spectacular technical mountain biker). Instead he patiently let my complaints wash over him as he road by me side, which he did the entire way. I think most people would have unfriended me or at least punched me in the mouth by then. Dave didn’t. He knew I was scared and he understood I was out of my comfort zone. He listened when I said, “I am really slow to get things like this,” and he pushed only as hard as I could handle. Somewhere in there, after we chowed down on some turkey jerky and granola bars, and while at this giant amphitheater in the middle-of-nowhere, he came over, grabbed me tight, looked into my eyes, and gave me a big squeeze. Then he proceeded to tell me how cute he thought I looked in my biking outfit. As we stood there, at a time when there was ample opportunity to give me a firm scolding, he never ever mentioned my bitching.

We encouraged the boys ofd of their high climbing perches, got on our bikes and headed back. Aside from the super-sized fear I had believing it was possible that Eli could fall to his death on this crazy steep drop-off section, the ride back was a much happier, more confident journey.

When we were close to the end, and at a super cool downhill part, I urged Dave to go ahead. He hesitated. I insisted, he went for it and once down, he waited again. Dave, when I needed you most, you were there, no strings, no requirements, no jusdgements, you just stood by my side. Thank You!

I love you! I needed that ride! I needed this weekend.