Remembering My Dad

Today would have been my dad’s birthday. He’d have been 82, I think. I wrote this post about him the first year I blogged, way back when I still used two spaces after a period.

It’s hardly a perfect post. My paragraphs are too lengthy and the piece is not constructed all that well, but if you take the time to read it I hope you can tell just how much my Daddy was loved. I miss him every day.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2014/08/16/not-just-any-man/

38 Reasons Why, Plus 4 More

July 30, 2018, marks the 42nd anniversary of the day Studly Doright and I were married. We said our “I do’s” in a small Baptist Church in Dumas, Texas, where we were surrounded by family and friends. Our exciting honeymoon was a long weekend spent in Amarillo, Texas, a whopping 45 miles from Dumas.

Most of those friends and family didn’t expect that we’d remain married a year, let alone 42 years, after all, we were just barely adults. Yet here we are, more than four decades into this experiment called marriage. We’ve had some outstanding moments of couplehood and some really rotten times, as well. We’ve managed to survive through a lot of hard work, love, and forgiveness.

Four years ago on this date I published a piece titled “38 Reasons Why” in tribute to Studly. I even followed it up with a piece the next year. But today I give you 42 reasons why I love this man, and how we’ve made this whole marriage thing work.

1. He thinks I’m smart.

2. His sense of humor. It’s corny and quick and keeps me on my toes.

3. He’s a great mechanic. That ability has been ridiculously valuable throughout our 38 years together. No matter how broke we were we’ve always had reliable transportation.

4. He is handsome. Much better looking than I deserve.

5. He’s honest in his dealings with others. His golf buddies refer to him as the Boy Scout. He never cheats. Never.

6. He can admit when he’s wrong.

7. He isn’t afraid to show emotion.

8. He loves our kids fiercely.

9. The grand kids have compared him to a jungle gym. And he would do anything in his power to make them happy.

10. He is loyal, sometimes to a fault.

11. He treats his mother like a queen.

12. He is generous and big-hearted.

13. His laugh. Oh, wow, his laugh. Sitting through a funny movie with Studly is one of the best mood lifters in the world. I highly recommend it.

14. He is a really good kisser.

15. He is an incredible leader.

16. Have I mentioned how smart he is?

17. He will dance with me if he has had enough to drink.

18. He is a good driver.

19. He taught me to ride a motorcycle without wringing my neck.

20. He likes to hold hands.

21. He does everything in his power to make sure I’m happy.

22. Studly loves our cats as much as I do.

23. He is consistent. That might sound boring, but he’s the perfect counterpoint to my Inconsistency.

24. Punctuality is important to him.

25. He makes kick ass obstacle courses.

26. He is a decent amateur auctioneer for our family reunion fund raisers. What he lacks in speed he makes up for in witty repartee.

27. He is really good at mental math. I never need a calculator when he’s around.

28. My parents loved him.

29. He insisted that Daddy move in with us so we could care for him after Mom passed away. The two years we had with Dad before he died were some of the best of our lives.

30. He never lets me take myself too seriously.

31. He doesn’t worry.

32. He respects my opinion and listens to my points of view.

33. He sees me as an equal partner in our marriage.

34. He can cook much better than I can.

35. He can laugh at himself.

36. Studly has a stellar work ethic.

37. He knows how to enjoy life.

38. And, he loves me. He really, really loves me.

39. No matter how crazy his work becomes, he seldom brings it home.

40. He’s taken me places outside of his comfort zone because he knows how much I love to travel.

41. Studly supports my need for adventure even when he doesn’t want to join in.

42. He can still surprise me even after all these years together.

I made it! Truth is I could’ve gone on, but I probably lost most of my readers half way through. That’s ok. This one’s for my husband.

Peace, People.

Happy Mother’s Day

My mom has been gone for many years now, but there’s not a day that I don’t think of her or need her or miss her. We seldom saw eye to eye, but we usually saw heart to heart.

Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who insisted I use good grammar and who modeled great reading habits. I owe her everything.

Peace, people.

Wine Fueled

Saturday came with its easy vibe, cloaked in laziness and splendor.

A chaise lounge beckoned, and I reclined, the better to revel bodaciously.

A glass of red in hand, the radio on a slow, low, sexy jam, stretch out your hand

And touch me there, and here. Oh, the wine might fuel me, but it’s you who

Moves me, every time, every single time. Come closer, and kiss me.

Scraps from Their Pasts

For Christmas I put together scrapbooks of their early years for our two children. The idea wasn’t an original one. Studly Doright’s mom, Saint Helen, had given Studly and his four siblings scrapbooks several years ago as Christmas gifts and for him at least, it remains one of his all-time favorite gifts.

I’m not a very crafts minded person, but in preparation for assembling these scrapbooks I made multiple trips to Michael’s (for non-Americans, that’s THE place to go for creative types) in order to purchase the books and to find appropriate decorative touches for each page. I bought tons of stuff and ended up using only a fraction of it. Project ideas, anyone.

I’m so awful at this type of thing that I actually started all this at the beginning of 2016 and had planned on presenting them with their gifts at Christmas that year, but I got bogged down in the minutiae, and it took me almost two years to complete the task. I’m still not sure how my mother-in-law put together five such books without going crazy, because I’m fairly certain some of my sanity was lost in the process.

I’d looked forward to presenting the books to my kids in person when we were all in Nashville that Christmas, but since I was an entire year behind, and we weren’t getting to see them for the holidays this year, I had to put them in the mail.

Now, I’d worked my butt off cropping photos and arranging them with curlicues and doodads. I’d spent countless hours searching through old school pictures and awards. The thought of trusting these works of heart to the mail almost drove me crazy(er). So, before I boxed them up for shipping to Dallas, Texas, where our son lives and to Port Byron, Illinois, where our daughter resides, I documented each and every page with the help of my trusty iPhone camera.

I’ll spare you from viewing all of the pages (you’re welcome). While I wasn’t there when they opened the books they both assured me they’d enjoyed their trips down memory lane. I’m so glad I spent the time creating these, but even more glad that I had only two children.

Peace, people.

Clone?

One of the upsides to the social media site, Facebook, is the way it reminds of us photos and events we might have otherwise forgotten. This morning the following photo popped up in my Facebook memories:

That’s Studly and me with two of our grandchildren, Garrett and McKayla, from nine years ago. At first glance I thought the woman pictured was my mom. Then it dawned on me, that my mother died before ever meeting any of her great grandchildren.

Here’s a photo of Mom with our daughter, Ashley, who is the mother of the children pictured above. I think maybe Ashley was four in this photo.

Again, here’s the photo of me:

Holy cow. People have told me how much I look like mom, but until now I don’t think I fully realized it. Cloning. It’s real and apparently has been since the 1950’s.

Peace, people. (Miss you Mommy)

The Best First

I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately for those early days of my relationship with Studly Doright. I don’t know if it’s because we’re both in our sixties now, or because our oldest grandkids are near the ages we were when we first fell in love, but something has me in a mood to reflect on how this whole thing started.

We’d begun dating not long after I moved to Dumas in my senior year of high school. Studly worked as a stocker, keeping groceries lined up on grocery shelves at the local Piggly Wiggly, and as a sacker who efficiently packed shoppers’ purchases into bags and then carried those bags to their cars. My dad was his boss and even before I began dating Studly, Daddy would comment on his superior work ethic.

“That Noyes kid works circles around the rest of my crew,” he’d say. (FYI, Studly Doright sometimes answers to the name David Noyes, but don’t tell anyone.) Coming from my dad that was high praise and most likely impacted my feelings for Studly even before I’d gotten to know him.

Our first date was to the homecoming football game in 1974. I can’t remember who our team, the Dumas Demons, played that night, or even if we won. I just recall how comfortable I was with this boy, and that was not the norm for the awkward kid that was me.

When he walked me to the door after the game and kissed me goodnight I knew I was a goner, so perfect was that kiss. Once inside the little house my family was renting I shut the front door and leaned back against it. My mom had been waiting up for me and gave me this look.

“Oh, Mom,” I said. “I think I’m in love.”

I didn’t say those words to Studly until that Christmas, though, and not until after he’d said them to me first. My family had returned to our hometown of Floydada, Texas, to spend the holidays with family. For nearly a week Studly and I had to endure being apart. I’m sure I mooned around like a lovesick puppy, and from accounts from friends, so did he.

As soon as we were reunited he took me to our favorite parking spot in his ’66 Plymouth. We were a little awkwardly sweet at first. His motorcycle helmet was in the seat beside me, and as a goof I put it on. Underneath the protective layer of that helmet I said, “I missed you a lot.”

Studly replied that he’d missed me, too.

“I might like you a little,” I confessed.

“I think I might love you,” he responded.

“Oh! I love you, too,” I said. We most likely kissed after that. I forget.

We’ve been married more than 41 years now. We’ve had some epic fights over four decades. We’ve hurt each other’s feelings and done incredibly stupid things, but on some level we’re still those two teenagers, sitting in that old blue Plymouth shyly declaring our love for each other. Every single day.

Promise Me

We were sweethearts in high school, Studly and I. We’d begun dating in September of my senior year, just a few months after I’d moved to Dumas, Texas. Apparently Studly had followed me around all summer, but I was pretty clueless. I wasn’t the kind of girl boys like him pursued. I was more the type they avoided.

Studly worked for my dad who managed the local Piggly Wiggly grocery store. Not long after I asked him where the ketchup was shelved, we began dating and fell head over heels in love. We were inseparable for my entire senior year, and when I moved to Amarillo in the fall of ’75 to attend college the angst of separation drove us both a little crazy. You see, Studly is a year younger than I am, and still had his senior year of high school to get through

I came home to Dumas fairly often, and Studly drove to Amarillo every chance he got. Dumas and Amarillo are only about 45 miles apart, after all, still, it might as well have been a trillion miles, so in love were we.

When Christmas break rolled around I couldn’t wait to spend some quality time with Studly. We went out every night and fell deeper and deeper in love. On Christmas Eve Studly and I went parking in our favorite spot at the old motorcycle track, and when he presented me with a small velvet box my heart started pounding so hard I thought I’d pass out.

I knew it wasn’t an engagement ring. We weren’t at that point in our relationship yet, but I thought it might just be a promise ring, a symbol of our intention to someday be engaged.

Anyway, I opened the box and found myself looking at the ugliest, cheapest piece of jewelry I’d ever seen. See the green one below? That’s the one.

It had the look of a prize from a gum ball machine, but Studly looked so earnest when I opened it that I had to gush over it.

“Put it on!” He urged.

So I did. Luckily it had an adjustable band. Could he not tell that it was obviously an extremely cheap piece of jewelry? I thanked him for the ring, trying to be upbeat, but all the time wondering if he’d bought it from some scam artist.

We made out for awhile, before he suggested that we go to the Pizza Hut for dinner.

“You can show off your ring!” He said, as I cringed.

When we got to the Pizza Hut, it was hopping. There were no empty booths to be had. I was relieved. Maybe I wouldn’t need to show my dubious promise ring to anyone after all. Then a couple we knew waved us over and asked us to sit with them. Crap.

Almost immediately after we joined them the girl, Karen, exclaimed, “Guess what? We’re engaged!” She then showed me her lovely engagement ring.

Studly and I both admired it. Her ring was small, but so pretty. Studly gently took my hand, and said,

“Honey, aren’t you going to show them your ring?”

I wanted to hide under the table. I knew Karen and her guy would see the ring for what it was–a cheap piece of plastic in an adjustable band.

Just as I was about to bring my trembling hand up to show them the ring, Studly stopped me. “Maybe you’d rather show them this one.”

Out of his pocket he pulled a small blue velvet box. When I opened it I began laughing.

I didn’t know whether to hit him or kiss him. I showed Karen and her guy the first ring Studly had given me. We all had a good laugh when I told them the story.

I don’t know what happened to that gum ball ring. Studly said he’d spent a lot of money trying to win a ring from the gum ball machine. It might’ve well cost as much as my little sapphire by the time he finally got it. I wish I’d kept the cheap one. I had no appreciation for such things back then, but I do now.

There’s a lesson there, I suppose. Pay attention to the little things. Someday, they’ll be really important.

Happy New Year, friends.

Thirteen Today

Our beautiful middle grandchild, McKayla, was born 13 years ago today, prompting us to leave our son’s home in Dallas, where we’d spent Christmas Day, to journey as quickly as possible to Kansas City to welcome this child.

She wasn’t due until mid-January, but she insisted on arriving early. I will always believe the tsunami that hit Indonesia on December 26 played a role in McKayla’s early arrival. Superstitious? Maybe. But she’s quite a force of nature.

Happy birthday, dear McKayla. We love you.