A blog about Davy.
It’s about time on this our third wedding anniversary.
Davy Goethals was born in 1979 and his name is Davy and not David or Davey or Dave. Davy was a baby loved by many and not loved enough by some too, but many hearts and hands raised him with affection. His first tooth came in when he was 8 months old and he was walking on his first birthday. He was taught to care for his toys and not waste a thing but hand out smiles like sweet baby breaths.
Davy did not grow up in a material world because money was tight like only money can be. Davy was the only son and only child to his two Belgian parents, his mother with locks of gold and blue eyes and his father’s colorings of auburn brown. Davy’s hair turned out to be a cross between the two but more towards gold. Davy’s eyes are shaped like his father’s but Davy’s eyes are hazel.
His hazel brown eyes saw many things growing up and eventually leading to his parents divorcing when he was 11. Davy absorbed many things in the first eleven years of his life that made him cherish anything he ever held in his hands and valued. His experience as a child of divorce was gut-wrenching like some textbook screenplay so he also learned to discard trust in too many people. It manifested in cries for attention then just reckless behavior that could have ended lives sometimes, including his own. Davy used sex like he used alcohol and cigarettes and all his other vices and battles with demons. Most everyone let Davy do what he wanted to do because Davy just always did what he wanted to do. Period.
Davy was not prepared for marriage or equipped for fatherhood because he did not believe in marriage and he feared responsibility for a child.
Davy’s proud of his marriage and of his son. I’m proud of Davy. I love him so much but some days in the past 1,096 days I’ve wanted to punch him in his face. Because marriage is hard.
But I’m so very proud to be married to him.
I love you Davy.