Well, Valentines Day is almost here. And, fellas, if you’re anything like me, that realization may not fully come to you until Feb. 13. So, now you can’t say I didn’t remind you. I mention it because, over the last several weeks, I’ve written a lot about my family’s journey back home to Atmore. This year, during the holiday meant to honor your significant other, I would like to focus on the woman who has made the aforementioned journey with me all of these years – my wife, Stephanie.

You see, it was back in 2010 that I first had the opportunity to move home and work in the newspaper industry. I was hesitant. But it was her calm reassurance that it was a smart decision to take the job that ultimately made me say yes.

That was the beginning of what seemed over the next few years to become a trend. Stephanie had a summer semester of school to finish at the time, so I moved to Atmore alone and lived amongst the boxes of our belongings for several months. That wasn’t because I was too lazy to unpack; it was because I knew wherever I put things would be wrong, so I didn’t bother. That was a smart move on my part. But the move itself was a smart move on hers. Steph fell in love with Atmore and with all of you that make this community so great. She found a job she loved, became very involved in the great organization that is MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and really felt she had found her second home. And then, as it sometimes happens in the newspaper world, a job offer came from a sister paper to The Atmore Advance, and just like that we were moving to Andalusia.

At the time, Stephanie was just beginning her maternity leave as she prepared to give birth to our second child. With no place yet to live in Andalusia, I spent the better part of a month in a hotel room, while she, our daughter and our bun in the oven stayed in Atmore with my mom. Over the next year, Steph blew my mind by staying home with a newborn and a soon-to-be kindergartener while I navigated the rigors of a daily newspaper. Long hours and constant deadlines for me really had nothing on what she was dealing with every day. And then, just when she was really beginning to be able to actually leave the house and rejoin society, my first opportunity to work as a publisher came – from a little town in Louisiana.

We spent the next two years working together at that newspaper, with Steph taking on the role of advertising manager. She had suddenly gone from almost never seeing me to seeing me all the time. I never asked her which was worse. But in both instances, she did what was asked of her.

So, when her job opportunity brought us back to Atmore over the summer, I knew she deserved for me to finally be the one to pick up and move for her. Only I didn’t get to right away. Instead, I once again spent time – months this go around – living in a hotel. Meanwhile, Steph and the kids moved back to our home – Atmore.

My point in telling this story is that way back in 2010, I felt as if coming home to Atmore might be a gamble. Stephanie knew it was a good idea and I’m glad I trusted her instincts. I felt the same way in 2016. I had no job lined up and wasn’t sure what I would do when I got home. But, Steph knew it was a good idea. I’m once again glad I trusted her instincts. I’m glad I have a wife who is smarter than me. I’m glad I have a wife who loves my hometown as much as I do. I’m glad I have a wife who consistently puts the needs of others before her own. After all, isn’t that what love is all about?

Had I not followed her advice nearly seven years ago, who knows how different our lives would be today? I doubt I would be here now, writing this column.

So, this Valentines Day, think long and hard about how much your better half does for you, even the things you don’t appreciate until years later. To my valentine – I love you, Stephanie! Thank you for the years.