Here's to You, Dan Janton

Though his naturally thick, jet-black hair resembles that of a man in his 20s, my husband Dan Janton is now 50 years old. We’ve talked many times about how surreal it sounds to say he’s 50, with such a youthful bride no less, but here he is, half a century old, and, if I do say so, aged to perfection.

It was Dan’s good looks that grabbed my attention 20 years ago and it’s his good looks that keep him in my good graces when he’s annoying. I think he’s the best-looking guy in any room, a nice piece of arm candy for me, his much younger wife.

Dan wasn’t the guy I thought I’d marry. Before I met him, I imagined a southern boy in Carhartt denim, maybe a twangy voice – what I got was a preppy golfer who pronounces “aunt” in a weird way, because he is a Yankee…something else this Georgia girl never imagined.

What I remember most about our early, get-to-know-each-other months, was: 1. This guy is obsessed with golf. 2. He is adorable with children. 3. He thinks his friends hung the moon. Many years later and all that’s changed is his number of weekly golf rounds.

Dan’s heart for children is one of his best qualities. While I was his girlfriend, dreamily doodling “Keri Janton” on scraps of paper, I turned to mush watching Dan with kids. He’s never been the guy who shies from holding babies, rather the one with his arms extended, his deep voice raised an octave as he nuzzles their little faces. How badly I wanted to have a litter of babies with this man and how thankful I was when we welcomed each of our three, beautiful boys.

Dan is an amazing father, completely smitten with his sons. He’s the kind of dad who says ‘I love you’ multiple times a day, who gets out in the yard to play catch and have Nerf wars, who digs the deepest moats for the boys’ sandcastles, who plays his music loud, often resulting in spontaneous dance parties. He loves to watch games with a pile of babies on his lap and he loves to talk to the boys about everything, from their days at school to their wildest dreams. He is an incredibly encouraging father, so proud of all their efforts, so supportive when they struggle. I love to watch Dan as he watches his boys, his adoration for them so obvious. Years ago, at the end of Max’s school Christmas performance, while all the parents applauded from their seats, Dan went to the front of the class where Max stood amongst classmates, he dropped to his knees, and leaned over a row of chairs to kiss his boy.

Dan couldn’t wait to coach our kids in sports and now has more than 13 seasons under his belt between basketball, soccer, and baseball. Our kids love having him as their coach and he’s only caused me to hide beneath my hat in embarrassment one time throughout all these seasons. Dan is a wonderful coach. While he’s competitive and loves to win as much as the next guy, he loves the children more. He has a way of being simultaneously instructional and fun. He wants to help the player improve and he wants to instill a love for the game. Every time we are at the ballpark, little boys run up to hug “Coach Dan.” As we walk away, Dan puts his hand on his heart and smiles at me. He loves those kids, and they love him right back.

Beyond his regular Friday golf rounds, Dan doesn’t do much socially, neither of us does unless it revolves around the kids. We’re in that phase of life and relishing it. That said, I know Dan would love to see his friends more often, because he loves them dearly. He grew up with a band of brothers, friends who were more like family, who he still holds in highest esteem. Along with that crew in Connecticut, he has friends from the Navy, a bunch out in Acworth, sports dad buddies, and probably upward of 100 pals from golf – whether they be industry friends or friends he plays with. Dan is gregarious, occasionally ornery (especially if golf isn’t going his way), and fiercely loyal. Not once have I seen him be envious of a friend’s achievements, only proud and celebratory. He is the same person in public as he is behind closed doors, genuine, honest (sometimes a little too honest), and caring.

I didn’t doubt Dan would be a good husband, but he has exceeded my expectations. It’s been quite a road, watching the 29-year-old guy whose primary thoughts were about making the PGA Tour, evolve into a 50-year-old man who prays with his little boys every night and puts his family above all else. I knew he’d love me, but I couldn’t have fathomed just how much. I could’ve never anticipated the tragedy we’d face and couldn’t be more thankful for the way Dan continues to lead us.

Dan is the antidote to my self-doubt. He sees my flaws and loves me anyway; he never leaves me or greets me without a kiss. He hears my dreams and says, “you will.” I can be a nervous creature, second-guessing, worrying, very private and protective about plenty, while Dan is bold, confident, reassuring, unafraid to show all his colors. When I look at life through Dan’s prism, it’s clearer, simpler. It’s the way I want to be.

Dan is one of the richest men I know. He loves a budget, and an assessment of needs verses wants (so fun), but he often looks around, puts his hands up and says, “we’re so fortunate.” We used to read a Seuss book to the boys, “The Best Nest.” It’s a story about two birds who are on the hunt for the perfect home, only to realize they had the best nest all along. Dan refers to our house as “the best nest.” He reminds us that the love and memories shared within these walls is unmatched and that if we’re together, we have all we need. Material things are fine, but for Dan, it’s the experiences and time spent with those you love that make life wonderful.

Dan Janton is not without quirks. He requires a minimum of five pillows each night, can handle exactly zero spice in his food, and can be found stretching multiple times a day, no matter the setting. It’s not uncommon to be mid-conversation with Dan when he pops into a downward dog position. I have photographic evidence of such weirdness taking place on the side of a highway, in a parking deck, on the beach, on a baseball field, and in the replica of Noah’s Ark in Kentucky. He has shamelessly stretched across America.

I think the number 50 has hit Dan a little hard. Despite having a vibrant child bride, he’s feeling a bit old, a little creaky in the joints. My wish for my sweet husband today, as he reflects on 50 years gone by and the 50 that lie ahead, is that he looks at this precious tapestry of life and sees nothing but love.

As he walked out the door this morning, a small wooden cross in his pocket and Max in his heart, I looked at Dan with so much gratitude and respect. He is not a perfect man, but he tries his best every single day. I’m so proud of all he’s accomplished, both professionally and personally. I’m so proud of the person he is and so grateful that he’s the father of our sons. He is worthy of all the praise and celebration he receives. I’m so happy he was born on this day, so happy he is doing something he loves today – playing golf (of course), and, most of all, so happy that I, his incredibly young wife, call him mine.