He and I met in college. We were both attending Humboldt State University. We bonded over our mutual passion for reggae music, hiking, and backpacking and we fell madly in love. We soon moved in together, to a one room shack on the dunes, with my (who became our) dog Tex. We further bonded over walks on the wild, windy beach, strange neighbors, studying for classes, and hauling our laundry into town and back. When we had our first child, my husband was 20. He was young, the first of his peers to become a father. That’s when friends started calling him Family Man.
He grew up in a little coastal town just north of San Francisco. Its a close knit community where you’re likely to run into your teachers shopping downtown, or picking up the mail at the post office. That town epitomizes the metaphorical village that it takes to raise a child. And I think that is what made Family Man such an outgoing, friendly, caring person. He’ll gladly start up a conversation and find some common ground with absolutely anyone, young or old, from any walk of life. Its a trait I admire very much, one of the many things about my husband I really love.
Family Man loves to draw. He can do a likeness of nearly anything or anyone, but he likes to draw people and characters the most. When we lived together in the dune shack, he started making websites. Later, when we moved back to the Bay Area, he was hired by a start-up internet search company. He taught himself to write computer code and he’s been on a tear ever since, developing his own original software for the web.
Family Man is funny, optimistic, supportive, and I don’t mind at all that he’s also good looking and strong. He’ll stop whatever he’s doing to listen to his children. He makes time for play and fun. He cooks meals and mows the lawn. He’s an honorable, trustworthy, stand up guy. And in the timeless words of John Prine and Iris DeMent, “he’s my baby, and I’m his honey, never gonna let him go”.