Ten years on, I still wonder how I got this lucky

It’s time for some raw honesty, I am not the easiest person to get along with. I’m sorry readers, I should have told you to sit down before dropping that truth nugget on you, my apologies.
I think my whole issue stems from my inability to read social situations accurately or quickly enough to realize I’m putting my foot in my mouth, or that I’m making someone uncomfortable.
I’m working on it but as a work in progress I ask that each of you be as patient as you possibly can be while I work out how to function as a normal adult in our society.
Of all the nonsense I’ve gone through in my life, much or most due to my own fault, there is one thing I must have done right along the way. Frankly, I have no idea what I did so right to deserve it.
Of course I’m talking about my wife Debbie. Somehow I not only managed to convince her to marry me but for some odd reason(s) she has stuck with me through the nearly decade we have been married, which is honestly baffling.
Let me tell you a little more about her just so you can get a better idea of why I’m simply flabbergasted that she puts up with me.
Debbie isn’t from my hometown or even my home state; she grew up a thousand miles away in the little village of Brooklyn…Michigan, where she shared about zero of my childhood preferences or hobbies.
Debbie grew up as a talented musician and water skier, competing across the country with her father and siblings and performing as the drum major in her marching band. At the same time I was growing up obsessed with fossils and playing soccer, just about as different from her in every aspect.
I met Debbie when I was near the end of my LDS mission when I was asked to teach her then-boyfriend missionary lessons. I thought it went very well, while she and everyone else present have a different recollection, but I must digress.
My lovable abrasiveness somehow didn’t gel well with her boyfriend and we parted on less than cordial terms. Of course I was oblivious. By the time I had gotten home from my mission she had made plans to move to Provo to attend BYU, a travesty I simply could not allow a beautiful young woman to subject herself to.
My recommendations that she get a proper education at the far superior Utah State University must have resonated with her because within a week of the suggestion I had dug my hooks in deep enough to convince this poor girl to date me (I do a really great menacing laugh which would fit great in this part of the story).
Almost 10 years later I am writing this column on our couch in our little town house in the Pacific Northwest, watching her finish up dinner with our children.
So while she is occupied and not looking at what I am writing, I am going to tell you all the brutal truths about her.
Debbie is, without a doubt, the single most lovely human I have ever encountered. In all my travels, experiences and interactions I have yet to meet a person whom I like more than my wife. She is simply the strongest, most deserving of praise person on the planet and deserves much more than I could ever provide her.
I have seen her bring our children into the world and I have seen her shepherd one of those precious children into the afterlife with all the grace and poise that I am convinced no other person could possibly muster.
She is not only a superhuman, she is a the very best our species has to offer. Above all she is the best thing to ever happen to my children, which is the highest compliment I am capable of offering.
To wrap this up I need to borrow from Ariana Dancu, “She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. She walked with the Universe on her shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings.”
Happy Mothers Day.