The Story Of My Wife...Part Two.

Well, I’ve gotta tell you. Michelle really IS trying to kill me with all this yard work crap. Quite frankly, I literally DESPISE yard work. I cannot for the life of me tell the difference between a plant and a friggin’ weed as evidenced by the fact that just today I mowed down two grape vines that Michelle planted last week.

In typical Michelle fashion, she just laughed and informed me that she would simply buy two more plants to replace them.

And she will.

In the past week, I have set up an infuriating greenhouse she bought online, purchased, lifted twice and spread forty bags of store bought dirt/Black Cow and a pick up truck full of genuine horse manure. Oh yeah, I’ve also assisted her in creating a strawberry patch and mowed three and half acres of grass!

Fact is….I’m friggin’ TIRED!

Okay…back to the tale.

The night I first met Michelle ended quickly because she couldn’t stay out late that night (or any OTHER night as I later found). She had a twelve year old daughter at home and almost never went out but, when she did go out, she was always home by twelve o’clock.

We hit it off immediately but, much to my shame, once I realized that she wasn’t a typical ‘party’ girl…I sort of shied away from getting to know her better. Honestly, I wasn’t ready to get into a ‘relationship’ at the time but, more importantly, I wasn’t ready for a ‘good woman’. At the time, I was into partying, having a good time and wanted nothing to do with a woman who would ‘take me away’ from my self absorbed lifestyle.

The fact is however that I KNEW beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with her almost from the moment we met but…I wasn’t ready to give up my so-called ‘life’.

We saw each other a few times and I even met her daughter. We laugh about it now but I must admit that I absolutely DESPISED her daughter! Turns out….I was right! Her daughter was and IS a spoiled rotten, self absorbed, STRANGE young woman. NOTHING like her Mom but a LOT like her father.

To make a long story short, I was confused. In my heart, I KNEW that Michelle was the woman of my dreams and that I loved her but I kept pushing her away. I would make plans with her and then cancel them claiming business issues. I would draw her close and then distance myself. Don’t get me wrong….Michelle was very understanding the first couple of times that I pulled this crap but she quickly put a stop to it!

I’ll never forget the night that I told her that ‘something had come up’ and that I needed to back away from a commitment to her.

She obviously had put up with all she intended to.

As I walked her to her car, she turned and faced me. She had tears in her eyes as she looked at me.

“Ron….this is your last chance with me. I KNOW you love me and I’m certain that I love you but you’ve got to decide what you want.” She said quietly. “I love you but I don’t love the way you live or the things you do. You’re better than the way you’re living but…it’s your life. Live it the way you want to but don’t expect me to be a part of it. You obviously don't have time for me in your life so....have a nice life.”

I remember KNOWING what I SHOULD have said and done but….like a moron….I let the opportunity pass.

I can recall the moment with perfect clarity.

Damn it….this little woman was going to ruin my life! How could I possibly have a good time with a Christian woman who knew NOTHING about having fun? Besides…..her kid was a little asshole!

I told her that I just wasn’t ready to ‘settle down’ but that I didn’t want to lose her.

To her credit, being the class act that she is….she looked at me as she got into her car. After she shut the door, lowered her window and started the car, she smiled and looked up at me.

“Well…I hope you’ll be happy.” She said.

She drove off without another word.

To be honest, at the time I relieved that it was over before it really got started but I also felt incredibly sad.

Here’s the strange part.

Shortly after we stopped seeing each other, I showed up at a charity garage sale at the home of a local businessman who was an acquaintance of mine. Unbeknownst to me, Michelle was helping with the sale.

She didn’t see me at first because she was busy talking to someone who was looking to buy something.

I eventually got to speak to her for a moment and it was a tad bit uncomfortable for both of us but she was very pleasant.

It would be the last time I saw her for almost seven years!

Over time, I changed my wicked ways and was living a much more sedate life with my dog Barney. Occasionally, I would hear news of her from friends but, we never seemed to run into each other until August of 2000.

I had just gotten out of my car and was heading into the Banner Elk post office when I looked up and there she was. She was leaving the post office and looking through a stack of mail when she looked up and saw me.

I had heard that she had gotten married a few years back to a guy I knew in passing so, when our eyes met and she smiled, I groped for something to say.

“Hey girl…..I haven’t seen you in ages!” I grinned and we exchanged a polite, friendly hug. “I heard you got married. How are ya’ll doing?”

She laughed and made a face as though she had tasted something really bad.

“We’re not ‘doing’ at all.” She offered. “We’re divorced.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that but I couldn’t help but being happy that she was no longer married and of course....I couldn't help but notice how gorgeous she looked standing there in a flowery sun dress so…I just said what came to mind.

“Are you seeing anyone now?” I asked sheepishly.

“No.” she answered but she gave me no indication as to what I should say next so…..I dove in.

“Would you like to?” I flashed my best smile at her.

Without missing a beat she smiled and answered.

“Sure.”

I was so relieved that she didn’t shoot me down that can barely remember what happened next but I DO remember getting her phone number and promising to call her later that evening and we’d set up the date.

She gave me cute grin.

“Oh boy….that sounds like the old Ron.”

I felt like a total jerk.

“Ouch….that hit home but I promise that if I don’t call you tonight it will mean that I’m dead.” I swore.

We hugged again and parted and I can still remember walking on air for the remainder of the day.

Our conversation that evening lasted a couple of hours as we brought each other up to date on our lives and we set the date for the following night.

We’ve been together every day since that date.

To Be Continued….I can’t wait to tell ya’ll about how fantastic this woman and our marriage has been.

She’s quite a remarkable woman!

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The Story Of My Wife

As a preamble to this story, let me say that we just got some absolutely incredible news about Michelle’s last Cat Scan and tumor marker tests.

Her oncologist, Dr. Davis was so excited that he personally called and told us that her CT scan looked great and said that he would tell us more during her scheduled visit Tuesday….yesterday.

The call came Monday.

Did that make sense? Oh well….I hope you followed it.

During the visit Tuesday, he gladly reported that NO tumors have increased, several appear to have actually gotten smaller and more importantly….several of the lesions in her liver have DISAPPEARED completely!!

I wish ya’ll could have heard some of the phone calls which took place last night.

Man….EVERYBODY loves my girl!!

I know…she’s my wife and I’m prejudiced but EVERYONE is inspired by her faith, attitude, fortitude, love and…..well, her MAGIC.

I’ve debated writing about ‘our story’ and the miracle that is Michelle but....I’ve just GOT to tell this story.

So….believe it or not….I give you…

The Story Of My Wife.

Michelle and I first met about fifteen years ago. I was working at a restaurant/bar in Banner Elk at the time. After a few years of playing music there, the owner, George had made me manager of the place as well as the entertainment because hell….we were the best of friends and drinking buddies so…why the hell not?

Honestly….I truly sucked at being a manager but I was one hell of a drinking buddy and a pretty fair musician. The problem with me at the time was that, quite frankly, I was a completely self absorbed asshole when it came to women.

I had gone through some really rocky marriages/relationships up to that time and I suppose I was just really weary of ‘love’ and all its problems. Basically, as a song I wrote at the time says…”I swore I’d have a heart of stone” but…..then I met Michelle.

Man…what a memory.

The lyrics to the song I wrote about this meeting pretty much tells the tale but I remember being in the middle of a song…the place was crowded and I was scanning the crowd not looking at or for anyone in particular.

Then I spotted her.

She was sitting at a table fifty feet away, one of those small ‘stand up’ tables with three other women who quite frankly may as well have been spider monkeys for all I cared! Don’t get me wrong….Michelle is and was a beautiful woman but, it wasn’t her ‘look’ that caught my eye…it was the way she was looking at ME.

It wasn’t a ‘I’m gonna screw the guitar player tonight’ kind of look she had on her face but rather a look that said that she was interested in what I was doing and really appreciated it.

I will NEVER forget thinking that while she WAS a beautiful girl….she was really getting into the music.

I will also NEVER forget what happened next.

For one of the few times in my life…..I forgot the friggin’ lyrics to the song I was singing. Hell….I’m pretty certain that I forgot the music as well but I’m positive that I screwed it up SO completely that I finally began laughing at myself as I attempted to recover.

The ending of the song was a complete train wreck and I promptly apologized to the audience with these words.

“I’m sorry ya’ll but it’s NOT my fault.” I proclaimed. “It’s HER fault!”

I pointed at Michelle until everyone turned and looked at her.

She was MORTIFIED!

To her credit, she handled the attention well and gave me a sexy, mischievous grin as she lifted her wine glass in my direction.

Over the mic I asked.

“Are you going to be here awhile or do I need to take a break right now?”

She laughed and said something I couldn’t hear over the crowd noise.

“What did she say?” I asked.

The crowd went almost silent as they waited for her to repeat herself.

She finally flipped her hand at me in a dismissive manner.

“You just shut up and keep singing big boy.”

The audience howled and I laughed too.

To this day she still calls me ‘Big Boy’.

That’s how it all started.

Of course, I screwed it up at first but…

That was the beginning.

To Be Continued….

Sorry but I’m tired as hell…she’s trying to KILL me with yard work these days but I HAD to start this story tonight for some reason.

I can’t wait to tell this story even though I realize that it’s pretty corny but she’s such an amazing woman and I want ya’ll to know all about her.

More tomorrow.

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My Maternal Grandfathers…yep…plural!

My Mom sent me a link today from a radio station, WCSC in Charleston S.C.

http://www.wcscradio.com

(sorry..I've forgotten how to add hyperlinks)

Anyway...it brought back a bunch of memories and started me thinking about how strange it is to have TWO maternal grandfathers.

The link was ‘a brief history’ of that particular radio station and I was pleased to see that the only picture on the page was one of BOTH of my maternal grandfathers.

Hmmm…..how can a guy have TWO maternal grandfathers you might ask.

Well….let me do a little of ‘splainin’ here.

As I have mentioned before, I come from a long line of musicians. EVERYONE on my Mom’s side of the family and my immediate family could play and/or sing….or both.

The funny thing about this is that I grew up thinking that my ‘real’ grandfather was Roscoe ‘Shorty’ Wiggins….the fiddle player in the middle of the picture above. He was and will ALWAYS be my ‘real’ grandfather but, in truth…the big guitar player on the right of the picture is my ‘biological’ grandfather!



Pretty wild huh?

I learned this many years ago after my Grandaddy Rock (as we called him even though most folks called him ‘Shorty’) passed away when I was seventeen years old. My biological grandfather and my ‘real’ grandfather were the best of friends for many years UNTIL my ‘real’ grandfather ‘stole’ my grandmother away from my biological grandfather…Jack Glisson who was a rogue and a heavy drinker but by all accounts, an otherwise great guy.

Whew!

Ain’t THAT confusing?

Well….both of my grandfathers were hard drinkin’, women chasing extremely talented musicians/singers but, my grandmother chose the right guy to stick with.

Shorty Wiggins, my ‘real’ grandfather was the finest man I’ve ever known in my life. Unlike my biological grandfather, Granddaddy Rock was a responsible, loving man who took care of his large family and taught them all what love was all about. He taught us music but he taught us ALL so much more.

That little man could wring more enjoyment out of life than anyone I’ve ever known. He played in ‘juke joints’, the Grand Ole Opry and on the front porch of his home on James Island with equal fervor. He raised six children ( his only ‘step child’ was my Mama who everyone swears he loved even more than his own), built a roofing business and was beloved by almost all who knew him.

He was also my hero.

Every summer from the time I was fourteen till I graduated high school, my brother and I would go down to Charleston from our home in Columbia and work for him in his roofing business.

He only stood about five six but could carry two packs of shingles on each shoulder up a ladder without breaking a sweat....no hands required. I once tried to emulate him and wound up damn near breaking my neck. I was about six feet tall and weighed one hundred and eighty pounds at the time.

After my grandfather rushed over to check on my condition and realized that I wasn't really hurt, he sat back on his haunches like roofers do and laughed his ass off.

"Boy...what in the hell did you think you were doing?" He demanded.

I remember telling him that I thought that I could carry at least as much as him since I was younger, stronger and bigger than he.

He had this funny way of sucking on his teeth (probably dentures)before he spoke sometimes which sounded like a couple of 'tisk-tisks' even if he wasn't reprimanding you.

It's just the way he spoke.

Anyway....in this situation, it sounded as if he WERE reprimanding me and he chuckled.

"Tisk-Tisk" he began. "Bubba...ain't no doubt that you're a lot younger and sure as hell a whole lot bigger than me. Hell boy.... you might even be stronger than your old granddaddy but it's my sad duty to inform you that you ain't NEVER gonna be smarter than me!"

I just stared at him trying to figure out what 'smarts' had to do with me damn near breaking my neck trying to emulate him.

Before long, he realized just how dense I was so he spoke up as he got to his feet and helped me up.

I grabbed his hand and he easily pulled me to my feet, promptly yanked me to his body and flipped me over his back in some sort of 'judo' move.

Damn it!

Of course, I found myself lying on my back looking up at my grinning grandfather as my brother, four uncles and the rest of the crew laughed at me.

He looked down at me without offering his hand and told me something I've tried never to forget.

"Bubba...young, strong and big don't mean NOTHIN' without SMART!" He laughed. "By the way....it's all about your center of gravity..whether it's carryin' shingles up a ladder or livin' your life...it's all about the center of gravity."

I thought about it for a second but he interrupted my train of thought when he spoke again.

"Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly.

I told him that I wasn't hurt at all.

He laughed and stomped down HARD on my right foot!

"A fella that took a tumble like THAT oughta hurt a little bit don't you think?" He cackled as the crew went wild.

Even through the pain in my foot as well as the embarrasment of the situation, I remember reveling in the moment. It was like a rite of passage for me. I was one of the boys then...the whole crew was laughing and making fun of me but somehow...I knew that Granddaddy Rock had played a prank or two on THEM as well from time to time.

It was a great moment in my life.

Must be a southern thing.

I'll never forget the time he caught me smoking his Lucky Strikes.

No....he didn't make me smoke the whole pack as in your typical 'I got caught smoking' yarn....

This was MUCH funnier...unless you were ME.

But...that's another story.

When he died, a funeral procession of three hundred cars caused a traffic jam in Charleston as it winded its way to the cemetery.

To this day, all our family talks about how much fun Granddaddy Rock's funeral was!

The funeral was a celebration of a life well lived and while everyone would miss him....there was just NOTHING we could regret about the way he had lived his life or how he touched all of ours.

Damn I miss that little old man.

My biological grandfather however died alone, penniless and a hopeless drunk.

I never met him.

My Mama still mourns Granddaddy Rock but not her ‘real’ father.

In the caption of the picture, the lady quoted, Emma Lee Heitman is my aunt and the sister she refers to is my mama. They both used to sing on the same radio station with and without my granddad’s band.

They were quite popular as a duo in those days.

Well….I just thought that was kind of interesting.

See ya’ll later.

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