They say hindsight is 20/20. But anyone who’s ever tried to hold a family together with duct tape and good intentions knows that the heart doesn’t see so clearly.
When my ex-wife and I finally called it quits, it was three years too late—but try telling that to a dad who just wants his son to have a full home. You think if you just work a little harder, say the right thing, do the dadgum dishes without being asked, that maybe it’ll all click into place. But love isn’t something you can force back to life. And sometimes, the best thing you can do for your kid is to give them two homes that are full of peace, instead of one that’s full of yelling.
I’ll tell you what though—nothing prepares you for not seeing your kid every day. That first night? That first weekend without them? It’ll wreck a man in ways he didn’t think he could be wrecked. And I don’t care what kind of whiskey you drink, there ain’t a bottle on this earth big enough to fill that hole.
So I wandered for a bit. Figured out how to be single. How to co-parent without clawing through the drywall. How to start over and build a routine from the rubble. And somewhere along the way, when I wasn’t looking, Taylor showed up.
I met her right before one of the worst freezes Texas had ever seen. What was supposed to be a first date turned into getting snowed in at her apartment for a full week. And as it turns out, that was the easiest week I’d had in years. We laughed. We cooked. We made something work without trying too hard—and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.
Taylor is the type of woman who doesn’t let me get away with much. She’s the one that calls me out when I’m being a jackass, and somehow still looks at me like I’m her favorite person. There’s a Kevin Fowler song called “Hard Man to Love” that might as well be my autobiography. But then there’s a song by Stoney LaRue called “Feet Don’t Touch the Ground” that hits even harder. Because when you really find real love—that’s what it feels like. Like everything finally makes sense.
She gave me that kind of love. And together, we’ve built a life that’s messy, loud, wild, and worth every single second. Especially now with our daughter in the mix, keeping us humble and sleep-deprived and laughing all over again.
Revolution Outdoors isn’t just about gear or golf carts—it’s about second chances. About building something from the ground up. About remembering where you came from, and not being afraid to start over when it all goes sideways.
So here’s to love—the hard, honest, Texas kind.
Until next time, — Doug