Happy Anniversary, Chief!!

My husband Jeff, supervised by Jackson and Tonks, waters the garden
this summer. It's our sixth wedding anniversary today, and this post
explains why I'm so happy. 

I can't believe that as of today, it's been exactly six years since Jeff and I got married.

Time flies when you're having fun. At least I am. I'll let Jeff speak for himself.

It's so funny how much Jeff moves me, even when he's not around. One small example: Jeff didn't go to the company picnic with me this year, but an Elvis impersonator performed there.

"Elvis" inevitably performed "Can't Help Falling In Love," which was a song at our wedding. Frankly, "Elvis" didn't perform it nearly as well as the singer did at our wedding, but whatever. Though I was having fun at the picnic, I had to turn away for minute during the song, because I was getting misty, like I always do when I hear that song nowadays.

On some evenings, driving home from work, I think about getting home, because I know Jeff's there. And I get verklempt just thinking about seeing him again. As if the 10 hours I spent without him around was an eternity. Either I wear my emotions on my sleeve or I'm a dog that looks like a human. You decide.

Sometimes, Jeff watches a television show that I'm not interested in, so I retreat to the office to play on the computer for awhile. Then something funny happens on TV, and his unique laugh booms down the hallway and into the office. (His laugh is the loudest thing he does, besides sneezing.)

Every time he laughs, I smile. And strangely, or maybe not so strangely, it reminds me of how comfortable and safe I always feel around Jeff.

I write a blog post about our marriage every year on our anniversary. I guess it's tradition. Each year, I say that by far the best decision I ever made was marrying Jeff. I think that every day. And with every passing day, the decision to live the rest of my life with Jeff looks better and better.

I'm basically a happy guy, but I never dreamed I could be as happy as I am with Jeff. Just like everyone else, we sometimes have our painful moments, our lousy set of circumstances, bad luck, bad moods.

But the constant is Jeff's steadiness, love, kindness, incredible moral compass, humor and compassion. I still haven't figured out how I got so lucky as to have Jeff in my life. I just know I cherish each day of it.

Denis, my best man at our wedding, is one of the most thoughtful people I know. He once gave me a delightful children's book called "The Gift of Nothing."

In the book, Mooch the cat wants to give his best friend, Earl the dog a birthday gift. In the end, Mooch gave Earl an empty box. Sounds disappointing, doesn't it?  But wait....

Earl opened the box and discovered nothing inside.  Mooch said yes, there's "nothing but me and you."

I love that line. To me, nothing matters except the love and bond Jeff and I have. "The Gift of Nothing" story ends with the following lines, with images of Mooch and Earl sitting side by side, embracing each other.

"So Mooch and Earl just stayed still and enjoyed nothing and everything."

Even when there's nothing there, it feels like I have everything because he's in my life. And that's all that matters.

I love you, Chief and happy anniversary. Let's have many, many more years together.

Already! My Fifth Wedding Anniversary. Happy Times Fly By

Jeff and I marry, August 26, 2012.

Here's an open letter to my husband Jeff to note our fifth wedding anniversary which is today.

Dear Chief:

They say time flies when you're having fun, and as far as I'm concerned our marriage proves it.

I can't believe it's already been five years since we got married. Life goes by fast, especially when I have somebody like you in my life to make it so awesome.

I've learned to savor every day, as I know things will keep whipping by us, even as we settle further into the wonderful routines of marriage.

Big life events blindside us every now and then. We both lost our fathers since we've gotten married. I lost a job, gained another. We've watched each other gradually turn a little older. We deal with our mini-crises that all couples face. The furnace breaks. We need a new roof.

We manage.

We manage because you're always there to keep me propped up. Since Day 1, you've been the one to steady me when I worry too much, or when I wrongly begin to see my glass as half empty.

Because with you, my glass is always full to the brim. And I'm not talking about the glass full of beer I sometimes have in the evening.

What's full is my life. With you. It's unimaginable to think what I would be like right now if you hadn't come into it.

You remember when we first started dating  all those years ago I resisted.  You persisted. Thank God you did.

This will sound odd, but as I resisted you way back then, thinking I didn't deserve someone as fine as you, lyrics from an old Eagles song kept nagging at me.

"You'd better let somebody love you before it's too late."

So eventually, I popped the question. And on August 26, 2012, we married. Thanks to you, it wasn't too late. It wasn't too late to be in love, to have you, this big hearted, kind, strong, smart, compassionate loving man in my life.

You know I'm grateful every day.

Five years in, we are kind of an old, married couple, aren't we?  You've remodeled the house to truly make it a beautiful, comfortable home. I'm coming along nicely with the garden projects outside.  You inspire me to spread beauty, so I'm just going to keep planting those flowers until I'm no longer capable of doing so.

The dogs bark, telling us they're hungry, so we feed them. Then we all go out for a dash around the yard. All great moments in life, again because you're there with me.

In the evening, we sit in front of the TV, gnashing our teeth in anger when Rachel Maddow explains the latest Washington scandal, or we marvel at the teenage ventriloquist on "America's Got Talent," or thrill to the athletes on "American Ninja Warrier."

All routine stuff. But really, it's not routine. Because you're sitting there with me.  It's all something to embrace and savor. I lose my concentration with what Rachel is talking about - it's not important anyway. because you're there.

So I sit on the couch and stare at you as you sit in your nice big easy chair. And I  think about how empty my life would be by comparison if you weren't taking the journey with me.

Yes, this message was mushy and gooey and oh so sticky sweet, but it had to be said. I also understand this message is similar to the one I gave you last year on our anniversary.  I feel the same as last year toward you, only even more so.

You've made me a much better man, and nothing compares with the joy of being in love with you.

Happy anniversary, Jeff!  I feel so lucky to love you more and more each day.

Love, Matt

Happy Anniversary, Chief: Why I Have A Perfect Husband

Chief: My husband Jeff and I are celebrating our
fourth wedding anniversary today.  

Today is my fourth wedding anniversary. Time flies.

I thought I'd use the occasion to write an open letter to my husband Jeff, who I call Chief. Here goes:

Dear Chief,   

Hard to believe we've been married four years already.  Time flies when I'm happy, I guess.

If I had to list all the reasons why I love you'd we'd be here all week. So I'm going to dispense with the list. You know I love you for a gazillion reasons, and we'll leave it at that.

In these past four years, we've settled into being a couple old married farts, but I'm sure you'd beg to differ with that description.

Actually, I pretty much do, too, since it certainly does nothing to capture the essense of our marriage.

The old fart remark is a reference to being comfortable. Happy in our routines. 

It's just that I'm so comfortable with you around. Even when neither of us is doing anything in particular. Just vegging in front of the TV. Having another dinner. Or when you're downstairs at your drafting table and I'm playing around on my laptop in my office.

All "boring" routine things that old farts do.

I feel safe. At home. In every sense of the word, whatever we're doing, whenever we're doing it.

Jeff ripping apart part of our deck this summer to retrieve the
wedding ring I dropped between the boards
Repairs were quick, by the way. 

Home is a refuge. And I don't mean just a house. 

Our home is a place where I still get a spasm of delight when I pull into the driveway and your Jeep is there. That means you're home. And I'm happy.

I even get a little pang of disappointment when I arrive home from work and I see you're not there. 

You're still at work, or grocery shopping, and you'll be home soon. But I still miss you and feel a little bit too alone when you're doing something routine like that.  

Oh, I can handle myself just fine when you're not home.  But I feel my heart lift when you're around. The other night I called it "the vapors" You just make my heart race with joy, is all.   

Another thing that makes me feel secure -  at home and comfortable -  is you have faith in me even when I don't have faith in myself.

I'm impatient.  I have ambitious plans for the gardens around our house and the plans are moving too slowly. Meanwhile, you create an enormous, beautiful outdoor deck so we can enjoy our home even more. You created it seemingly in an instant, while I plod along.

You constantly remind me my projects are a process, that you delight in seeing the slowly expanding flower beds, the incremental transformations in our yard. 

Jeff and his mom. He's as good a son as he is a husband! 

You always come to my rescue. Even little instances. 

Like when I dropped my wedding ring between the boards of the deck, and you ripped up some of the boards to retrieve it. My hero! And I'm not being facetious. You ARE my hero. 

I might not show it through my frustrations  but again and always, your words and support and love make me feel safe in my own chaotic head.

I keep bringing up the word "safe."  Love, when done right, is a safe place. It's a shield against all the hate and turbulence and weirdness of the world.  I think - I hope - we're doing love right. 

In the evening, when we're watching TV, you sit in your big armchair, and I'm usually on the couch with our crazy dogs Jackson and Tonks.

I don't think you notice that sometimes I go quiet and stare at you instead of the TV screen. Yeah, the antics on "America's Got Talent" are fun enough, but the real entertainment for me is you.

Not the fact that you're sitting there watching TV. No, the entertainment is the fact that you're there. Home, with me.  

So I watch you as you giggle at "The Big Bang Theory" or roll your eyes at the politicians Rachel Maddow is picking on.

And I feel so lucky, so over the moon in love with the guy in the armchair watching TV.

Because the guy in the armchair is the one who never makes me feel lonely, who always makes me feel safe, who has made me so happy to be alive.  The one I want to be with forever and ever. I don't want this to ever end.

Thanks, Chief, for always being there.

And Chief: Happy anniversary. We're celebrating our fourth. Let's go for 40!

Love, Matt

Of course I dedicate this song to Chief, too:

Marrying The "Least Fashionable Guy" On The Planet Was An Excellent Idea

My husband Jeff greets our niece, Poppy
last Christmas in Yankton, South Dakota.  

Happy Anniversary to my husband, Jeff Modereger!!

We got married exactly two years ago today, on August 26, 2012.

Marrying Jeff was by far the best decision I ever made for a billion different reasons. But I have a disclosure to make about him. Frankly, he's one of the least "with it" guys on the planet.

By that I mean, to him, not everything in life is a financial transaction.

It seems that nowadays, so many people will do something only if they personally gain from it.  Gain financially, gain in prestige. Doing something because it's the right thing to do is totally passe.

Not for Jeff. Nope. He actually thinks he should support and love people because they deserve it, not because any support he offers will make him rich. Can you believe that, in this day in age?

This is how ridiculous he can get: He's a college professor, and when any of his students show interest in the subject at hand and want to learn more, if the student needs support, advice, or a pep talk, he's there, willing to help out any way he can.

When any of his students show success, he's proud. Never mind his students' success doesn't make him a celebrity, or a rich guy, or anything like that.  He does it because it's the right thing.

Our dog Jackson leads Jeff on a walk
while we were out looking at fall
foliage last October in
Bakersfield, Vermont.  

Family is really important to Jeff. He'll move mountains to help them. He relishes the chance to visit with them. He loves telling stories of family lore.

Yeah, I know.  We're all supposed to be go-getters, with no time for family. Thankfully, Jeff never got that memo.

Home life with him is the same thing. All kinds of little things. He notes what kinds of cereal, cookies, drinks, food I like and he goes out of his way to get it when he's out grocery shopping. The dinners he cooks are always excellent.

I told him he should take his talent and win on "Chopped" or one of those Food Channel competitions, and win a fortune, but he says he just wants to make me happy.  And he does.

Jeff doesn't tolerate cruelty, dishonesty, shady deals or meanness. Especially against people, or animals who are most vulnerable. Maybe his kindness is as unfashionable as a 1970s powder blue polyester suit, but that kindness sure looks great on Jeff.

Unfortunately, Jeff's dad passed away recently.

His dad, Don Modereger, was a successful businessman in Yankton, South Dakota. His success meant he lived in a nice house and wasn't really wanting for anything.  (It didn't hurt that Jeff's mom, Lois Modereger, worked really hard with the business, her family and community too.)

But Don Modereger and the rest of the family didn't --and don't -- live extravagantly. That's largely because he gave back to the community, donating time and money to those who didn't have as much as he did.  Don Modereger was thoughtful, and kind, and gregarious. Jeff's like that too.

Jeff eulogized his dad, and talked about how his father thought it was important to support your neighbors, your community, people who could use a helping hand.   Jeff said his father brought people together, and made Yankton a better place, and that is his father's biggest and best legacy.  

Jeff shares a moment with his mom, Lois
Modereger, in Yankton, South Dakota
earlier this year.  

Jeff actually said this in public!! Jeff was actually saying profits and money aren't the most important thing in the world!  That being a decent human being is the most important thing a person can do.

How retro!!

It's funny. I constantly hear so many of his current and former students talk about how much they appreciate Jeff for all his help and support over the years. They tell him his help made them the success they are.  They love him, and think the world of him.

At his father's memorial service in South Dakota, so many people showed up to remember him that it caused a traffic jam outside the funeral home.

Don Modereger's friendliness and generosity and humor,  the kind of template Jeff uses to live his own life, seems to have gotten a huge reception in Yankton and the rest of the world.

As for me, I guess I'm out of step, too.  I don't care that Jeff doesn't have a ruthless bone in his body. That he's not going to step on anybody else to get ahead. That he actually cares how people are doing. That he thinks about other people's perspective before acting. That he's kind, and generous and funny as hell.

Maybe Jeff is on to something.  Maybe he isn't so retro. Maybe Jeff's so called old fashioned approach to life is actually fashion forward. Something everyone wants to, or should emulate.

Jeff makes me suspect that maybe the "Get Ahead At Any Cost" ethos that is the way we're "supposed" to act in this modern world is a sham.  Maybe he's actually a trend setter. I sure hope so.

I do know Jeff's attitude makes me less cynical of the world around me.  With him around, I'm that much less suspicious the world is out to scam me. There are perfect, decent people in the world. Jeff proves that to me every day by being one.

There are a zillion reasons why I love Jeff. His sense of humor, his love, his looks, his intelligence, his quick wit.

But after two years of marriage, the thing I love most about Jeff is how he is slowly changing me, day by day. I watch how he lives, his sense of morals and his decency.  Believe me, I'm taking notes as I watch him, and try to absorb it.

And that's why I think the "unfashionable" Jeff Modereger is actually maybe the most chic person in the world.  I hope everyone adopts Jeff's "look."

I know I'm trying it on for size. It's a good fit.

So Jeff, Happy Anniversary, and I pray for many, many more years together. I'm so lucky!!!

Exactly One Year After Wedding, Even More Glad I Married Jeff

Today is the one year anniversary of my marriage to Jeff Modereger.

The man I was lucky enough to marry
one year ago today.  

On each of the past 365 days I've woken up in the morning, and the first thought that occurs to me is I am married to Jeff. Always, I smile at the thought, and suddenly have the courage to face the day, whatever it brings.

This wonderful marriage is a tonic, an elixir that changes everything in ways I can never explain.

Really, it's just another marriage. People get married all the time. With the death of the odious Defense of Marriage Act, more gay couples like us are getting hitched, too. Marriage is as common as sun rays on a glorious summer morning.

And as special as those rays. Yes, Jeff and I have just another marriage. But when you're in it, like I am, the glow of those sun rays make me feel like I'm walking on air, drinking in love, wanting to live with Jeff forever. And if I can help it, I will do just that.

Last year, in this blog, on the day I married Jeff, I wrote that it was important to make a public statement, to essentially shout from the rooftops that this marriage is a Big Deal. That we had a responsibility to keep the love growing. If only because the world needs more good things.

We've kept that promise. I didn't think I could love Jeff more than I did on that stage at the University of Vermont Royall Tyler Theatre on August 26, 2012 when we said our "I do's."

But, the love has grown deeper.

One of the things I love about this marriage is the little details that wouldn't mean anything to an outsider, but are everything to me.

I embrace the sound of Jeff snoring softly after I get up early in the morning and he sleeps in a bit. The warm smells of the dinner he's making that waft in from the kitchen. His arched eyebrow when I make another smart aleck remark. The way he gets excited like a little kid when he's got a great idea for a show he's designing, a design that the people putting on the play love.

We've settled into the routines of marriage.  We get up, we make ourselves breakfast, one of us takes Jackson the Cocker Spaniel outside. In the evening,  Jeff sits in his easy chair, Jackson draped on the head rest behind him. I rest on the couch, trying desperately, but failing to stop dropping crumbs on the floor as I finish eating dinner.

We shout out the answers to "Jeopardy!" on the TV. I wrestle with Jackson for a bit. Jeff will put the dinner leftovers away.

Then we'll watch "America's Got Talent." or something cheesy like "Project Runway" and do a running, eye rolling commentary. Forgettable stuff, and at the same time, profound.

I imagine most great marriages are something like this. Every day is routine and special at once.

It's been a great year, even thought it came with a lot of  challenges.  One of our beloved dogs, Bailey, died in May.  Together, we cried over Bailey's death and our joined emotions helped get us through.

I suddenly find myself between jobs as we celebrate the one year anniversary of our union.  I bounce my job search ideas off him, he gives me ideas, and the two brains combined ensure that soon, I will be working at rewarding job I love.

Jeff had to travel a lot in the spring and early summer.  It was a constant blur of planes, cars, unfamiliar beds, me feeling lonely at home. I don't know if distance makes the heart grow fonder, but our bond was just as strong as ever when we were hundreds of miles apart.  

I don't know what led us to find each other. I know the mechanics of it all, the initial whiff of interest in each other, the first date, the growing relationship, the deepening connection that led to our marriage. But why did our two lives intersect in the first place?  How did we get so lucky?

The question can't be answered, of course. And probably shouldn't. The mystery is part of the fun.

Maybe some readers are groaning at this flowery tribute to the relationship between Jeff and me. It's just a marriage. And I guess this post is just a love letter to Jeff. I could have kept it all private.

But to me, this marriage is too big to hide away in a little box, to be shared only between Jeff and me. We felt the wonderful support of all our family and friends as we got married on August 26, 2012. That set us off on exactly the right foot. We feel how happy everyone is for us. We feel how people think this marriage is so right.

A great marriage like this affects a lot of people, a lot of bystanders, I hope in a good way. In a world full of ugly wars, ugly politics, disasters, fights, murders, mean people, hate and Miley Cyrus, this marriage is a wondrous refuge.

A refuge for Jeff and me, certainly. And maybe enough to make those we love smile a bit, too. What's the harm in that?  Even if I do blab on and on about something that is "just a marriage."