Basement Dweller

The photographer for my pregnancy photoshoot took a picture of Dennis walking around. He was so patient and so kind for being my security guard.

If I am going to give any justice to our story, to Ezra's story, to my life, I have to make mention of a pivotal character to our story, Dennis.

The house I bought is nothing short of a very complex puzzle. The electrical was (and still is) a joke, the plumbing was insane, up is down and down is up; complicated doesn't give justice to the epic shitshow that was (and is) this home. Dennis is a very resourceful, very amazing handyman. He offered to come over initially just to help me with some electrical stuff, and eventually our friendship blossomed.

Dennis is roughly 6ft 5 in tall, wears jeans, Grunt Style t-shirt, and a pair of cowboy boots, every day. He has a very confident, stoic and grounding demeanor. He has spent most of his time in the mountains and gives off every vibe of that. He has a brilliant sense of humor, once he settles in and opens up. He has a wounded but deep character that leaves its mark etched into your life, long after his physical presence is gone.

He started working around the house; he helped me fix the plumbing in the bathroom, the electrical, changed all the high lightbulbs, moved the furniture around at my whim and helped me get things ready for Ezra. And then it transitioned to him staying and watching movies with me, literally sitting completely on the other side of the couch. We used to laugh about how distant we would keep ourselves like it was some sort of junior high dance. We were the wallflowers. This (poor) man is so tall that he would walk around my house a hit his head on the kitchen light every time he walked through, we would laugh so hard at his continuous head injuries that he acquired just by walking around.

We watched every Melissa McCarthy movie there was and just laughed, we watched Yellowstone and Schitt's Creek and lots and tons of football (Go 49ers!). He spent nights over with me and I fed him dinner. I suppose it had become what is defined as a situationship. He made me feel safe in a time that I really wasn't. We didn't define anything, we just were and it worked for us. It was just the simplicity that we both needed.

When it was getting close to my due date, Dennis stayed and made sure that I was safe and he was on call for the delivery day in case my parents were busy. Dennis went above and beyond, he set up my birth pool, helped me hang the twinkle lights in the birthing area (when I still thought I would have a home birth), protected my property from the "dad" who was actively stalking me, kept a vigilant eye, played with my kids, ran and got any and every food craving I had, did coffee runs and mostly spent time in the basement (which I adored, it had become his safe space, his man cave, his reprieve from a world that had been too unkind to him).

When Ezra was born, I had a very small support network, but Dennis was always there. He had to work the night that I was in labor - his first night at a new job. I cried to my support team about howmuch I loved Dennis, how much I respected him and cared for him and wished he was there. After Ezra was born, he got the other "parent access bracelet" while we were in the hospital and spent all of his extra time there with me while I recovered. He brought me food and more coffee to save me from the hospital menu. He came home with us and helped take care of me and Ezra for the first couple of weeks.

We never said "I love you" but in our own ways we showed it. Through acts of service, and my always present "you're a good man Dennis Goff".

When it looked like Ezra's bio dad was going to show up in the picture, Dennis did one of the hardest things a man can do, he walked away to make way for another man to step in. I tried to explain to him that this wasn't what was going to happen, but he chose to do what he felt was the noble move and allow the space to be there. I missed him.

After a few months, we got back in contact and chose to actually give a relationship a try. A real one. One that would open up wounds that we didn't know still existed, one that would somehow both heal and destroy us. Cut us down and make us whole. We didn't stay together long in that space before our time had expired, we both said hurtful things and made actions that we shouldn't have. We both gave up and let go. He moved across the country and while it felt necessary for him and what was best for him. Last I knew, Dennis is THRIVING for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time ever. And that is worth everything.

I have such a profound and deeply rooted respect for this man. And though this life didn't present us with what we imagined it would, I am forever thankful for his kindness, generosity, courage, selflessness, masculinity, love and giving me the opportunity to get to know him. For breaking me open and allowing me to see the dark corners of me that needed to be healed. For keeping us safe. For being what Ezra needed in that time. For almost dying with me during the carbon monoxide scare. For tolerating my hormones. For letting me have a sneak peek into his world. For giving me more of a passion for football. For understanding that me being a peaceful homemaker is more than enough. For showing me even deeper what it is that I want in a relationship, life and a man.

And today being his birthday, let this pay tribute to the man who was there when he didn't have to be. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DENNIS GOFF! May you be loved beyond your wildest dreams, incredibly successful in all the ways you find essential and celebrated more today than ever before, wherever this amazing world takes you.

Thank you for being you and allowing me to be me. You're a good man Dennis Goff.

Dennis snuggling Ezra in the hospital.