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Hey Dad,

Things are going pretty smoothly here at the Wilson house. Last night I finished up (well, almost) a house project that I started seven years ago, and yesterday the kids got a thumbs up at their doctor check-up … although Abe (4) is still talking about the "turn your head and cough" part.

On top of that, Debbie and I were able to get away for an overnight to West Palm Beach, Florida last weekend, as we had the privilege of speaking to a great group of moms and dads.

While we were there, I discovered the secret of keeping love in your marriage (okay, one of the secrets)—you gotta have a song. You know … one of those songs that when you hear it, you say to your wife, "They're playing our song."

I discovered ours this past weekend.

It was at an outdoor plaza after dinner. A saxophone-playing, one-man band named Billy Bones entertained the crowd that had gathered to enjoy the night breeze, the lighted palm trees, and his music. Just as we were about to leave, the tempo changed, and he began playing Nat King Cole's, "Unforgettable." I looked into the eyes of my beautiful wife and said, "Let's dance."

A little background on my wife: She doesn't like attention and feels uncomfortable dancing at all, let alone in public (maybe it's her Baptist upbringing) … especially when no one else is dancing.

"You're kidding," she said, but her eyes sparkled.

"No one knows us here," I said. "Come on."

It took a little doing, but a few seconds later, I had her in my arms dancing as Mr. Bones crooned, "Unforgettable … that's what you are … unforgettable …" My wife and I were in love.

It was right then that I thought, This is our song! Every time I hear this, I'll remember this moment and look at my wife and say, "They're playing our song." The years will pass, and we'll get old and decrepit, but when we hear our song, we'll remember that night under the stars when Billy Bones reminded us how much we love each other.

So Dad, if you and your wife don't have a song, get one. If you used to have one, hunt down the CD, tape, or record (remember those?) and play it after the kids are in bed. Then take her up in your arms, look her in the eyes, and … remember.

You 'da dad,

© 2008 Todd Wilson. Reprinted from 2005. Used by permission.

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