I spent A LOT of years alone. I learned to love myself and to love my solo life.
I was complete.
I was fulfilled.
I had tried and tried to imagine the kind of man I could have a real, true love affair with, but for so many years it was a hazy vision.
When I tried to come up with a list of characteristics I was stumped. My "wish list" seemed excessive-- could I really ask for all THAT?
Of course he had to be a TEXAN. That was non-negotiable. I didn't spend 42 years hell-bent on moving to Texas to settle for anything less.
I wanted someone who was a professional, but casual, with a creative bend.
I dreamed of someone who loved Texas music as much as I did, who,-- oh, dare I ask?-- might even play music of his own.
I dreamed of someone who I could write songs with. Even though I am completely non-musical and had never written a song. Still, deep in my heart, I'd always longed to be a songwriter.
I dreamed of a man who could teach this no-rhythm-2-left footed woman to dance. I could SEE myself twirling across a worn wooden dance floor in one of the 100-year-old Texas dance halls I loved so much. I knew the RIGHT man would make it OK to stumble through, while the wrong one would make me feel awkward and self-conscious.
I wanted a strong man, one who knew how to wrap his arms around me when I was scared and little. Who wasn't diminished by my "littleness," but instead used those moments to demonstrate his strength and steadiness.
I wanted someone who made me laugh and yet wasn't afraid to cry.
Well as you can see, the list went on and on. And you know what? I got all of those things in Jerry, but I found out they aren't really the important thing.
The important thing is:
This. Man. Knows. How. To. Love.
ME.
And I can feel it. Even the things I perceive as my flaws and weaknesses are lovable to him. He is not put off by my bad moments; instead he pulls me closer. He can diffuse a tense situation with a look or a hug. He listens to me. He tells me (ME. The one who has heard "Please stop singing" my whole life) to sing. Loud.
He treats EVERYONE with kindness. I have never seen him be small or petty.
I have total respect for him, as a person and a man.
And I'm learning that respect is a cornerstone of a marriage.
As is having fun.
We like to do the same things. Listen to live music, seek out secret swimming holes, play music, hike Big Bend, drink Shiner, take naps.
We are so compatible that it's easy.
When Jerry first mentioned marriage to me, I had to stop him in his tracks.
"But wait," I said, "I have some wedding requirements that you better know about, right off the bat."
For YEARS I had been making the same speech. It went like this:
"Well. I'll probably never get married again, but the only way I would get married, was if it was at Luckenbach, with Walt Wilkins playing and Robbyn Dodd as the photographer. I want to dance to 'Trains I Missed.'"
And Jerry said, "Easy." And then, "And I'll get you a wedding cake shaped like Texas."
And it was. And he did.
We had the wedding of my dreams.
We loved every second of it.
Life took off in crazy, unexpected directions right after we were married.
It's been a wild ride.
But I'll say this; I wrote my first song last week.
West Texas sunsets are in my blood now.
And my husband is still the nicest person I've ever met,
Lucky me.
