Annie’s Song

ANNIE’S SONG

I know, I signed off and said forget about it. The insults, the mockery, and the comment tool to improve content destroyed my interest in writing. But, like my second piece, I heard another oldie on the radio. I don’t think I’d heard any John Denver song on the radio in 10 years. It was Annie’s Song. It moved me and caused me to open Microsoft Word. Five hours later, I was here writing an introduction. So, here is my tribute to my Annie (not her name) but she’s a real woman who helped me regain a sense of worth. The story is entirely fiction, built around a kind human being who is still married to her Bubba — the rest was my imagination. Only a couple of references to sex in this story — it’s about learning to love in your 60’s. Bear with it, it is long, but I hope you’ll feel better when you reach the second half.

Please save the comments that it’s too long. Yes, it is! I felt every one of them. I should have sought an editor, but I just went with the WORD edit function. My mistake if I’ve missed the need for changes.

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It’s me — Numbnutz — a somewhat less than affectionate nickname given me by my father in my youth. Oh, it wasn’t the only nickname I had, ‘knucklehead’ and another loving name — Stupid! Don’t get me wrong — my parents loved me, and me being the first borne son, I gathered a lot more attention that the other 4 kids in my family. Most of it was good, some not so good, and a few times downright awful.

I remember one event like it happened yesterday. I misbehaved in 2^nd grade and was given a punishment assignment — I had to write out the alphabet 24 times on 3-hole paper. When my dad questioned what I was doing, I lied and told him that everyone in the class had to do it. Our neighbor’s son was in my class, so Dad called him and asked about the punishment. He said, “what punishment”. This was back in the fifties and my ass was beaten for almost 15 minutes when my mother — always afraid of my father, pulled him off me saying “you’re killing him — STOP”. It took another five minutes to calm him down. Turns out, it was part of a long history of me not hearing the instructions correctly. I was 7 years old and had spent four hours writing letters when the teacher wanted me to improve writing letters properly.

My father is long since departed and while he was my coach in sports, we stopped connecting emotionally in my teen years and any response to him was out of fear, rather than out of love for my dad. Why am I writing this? Because I’m dying — but I’m now ready to accept my mortality! Why now, because the past 10 years have been the happiest of my life! How did I start to enjoy my life? I thought it was because I dumped the wife of 30 years, then worked to find the real me while living alone, and ultimately learning to enjoy each moment of life. No, I didn’t do that by myself. I met someone who taught me what it was like to commit to a life — body, mind, soul, and heart!

Let me tell you about those OK years, the normal ones, declining years, and then the awful ones. My wife and I met in the new melting pot of the US in the 70’s — Atlanta — living in the same apartment complex. She lived across the complex from me, and the complex had regular ‘get togethers’ on Monday nights. Sometimes it was Bingo or Trivia and other times it was an actual party with a band. I don’t think anyone used DJ’s back in the day — too many LP’s and 45’s to carry. It’s OK if you don’t know what they are — ask your grandparents! It was at one of those parties that I met Penny for the first time. She was giving this guy a ration of shit — after all, this was the era when “put-downs” were an artform and she could handle all the colors on that palette. He was with a friend who was laughing his ass off seeing his friend berated by a chic he wanted to fuck. Good luck on that. I assumed he must have deserved it, so I smiled at her and said, “Keep up the good work!” and walked away.

It was about six weeks later that I was at another party and noticed Penny. She was always very loud wanting to be the center of attention. I went over to say hello and was introduced to her friend, an ex-roommate from college. Her name was Janice, and she was crashing with Penny because she had a bad fight with her husband. She lived in Jacksonville and decided it was time to escape the marriage. After the introduction, I went over to grab a beer and noticed Penny at the bar locking lips with a guy from my building. I saw a couple of friends I hadn’t said hello to yet so tried to move across the packed floor when Janice started eyeing me. She was cute, but a little chubby but had a beautiful smile. We started to chat, and I learned that her 2^nd husband had abused her, and she said she had filed for divorce. With the sob story finished and me being a good listener we headed to the bar for drinks.

The clubhouse was jumping, and my hearing was less than ideal, I asked if she would like to go to my apartment for some wine and snacks. Now I considered myself a decent and moral person. But she did say she’d filed for divorce and five minutes later, I’m lying on the floor in my den and Janice had my cock and balls deep in her mouth. After bringing me to orgasm and swallowing the entire load (a messy one, it had been a while), she’s moving up towards me. I’m thinking she’s pissed that she swallowed a very messy load. No, she says “Let’s go to the bedroom”. That started the most amazing six weeks of my life to that point. I was in love — I did that too often — and I was trying to think how I could break it to my devout Catholic family that I wanted to marry a 26-year-old woman who was twice divorced. Turned out, I didn’t need to worry about it — she came to me on a Thursday night with the ‘we need to talk’. She lied to me about the filing for divorce. She’s still very married. OK, I can live with that! But what next? “Gary, I’m pregnant!”

‘Oh, I am in deep shit’ I thought. Then Janice spoke “Don’t worry, it’s not yours. I found out two weeks ago after having a couple of bouts of morning sickness. I went to the OB/GYN and found out that I’m about 8 weeks pregnant, maybe a little more. I’m going back to my husband to see if we can work it out.” She was leaving as soon as she picked up her stuff from my apartment and I told her I appreciated her wanting to say goodbye. I had professed my love to her but also knew it was more the sex than the building relationship. I was sad, not angry, and wished her well. I got a card from her announcing the birth of her son, 9 months, 2 days after we had sex the first time.

Well after that short but hot affair, I went on a long cold streak. Penny called me once as she had tickets to a tennis tournament and would I go with her. It was boring but it was a night out. Two months later, it was the Atlanta Steeplechase — a society event that was always crashed by us ne’er do-wells. That was enjoyable for an hour — only it was five hours before we could leave. But eventually, I returned fire with Atlanta Hawks and Flames tickets (yes, they were in Atlanta then!). We were friends, but still hadn’t kissed in a town where sex on the first date was a given.

I had dates but nothing clicked until I started dating a slightly younger woman who was cute as hell but said she wouldn’t “fool around” as she was saving herself for marriage. At that six-week mark, all signals were ‘go’ and we were discussing our career plans. I figured this was the prelude to that next deeper question of ‘do you love kids?

I looked at her and knew I could marry this girl. After a 10-day business trip, I called Christine to tell her I bought tickets for a Broadway play at the Fox Theatre and she said, “Sorry, I can’t make it. I have plans for the next week that I can’t change! Call me the week after next!” Her words were ice-cold. Should I take that as a family trip, a business trip, or a better offer. I took it as the latter. I may have chosen wrong, but she never got that next call from me. But I did have those tickets and called my fallback friend, and we went and had a great time. She sure could talk up a storm.

I had a one-night stand or two after that and we had a Halloween Party at our clubhouse and there was Penny giving another guy a ration of shit. He lived in my building and was a real loser. Forty-five years old and living with 3 other guys in a 2-bedroom apartment. I had to rescue Penny from this sleezy bastard. I wasn’t needed — her sharp tongue had already turned him into a eunuch, and he was leaving as fast as he could.

This is a good point to mention in the 6 months prior to Penny and I connecting, I attended my sister’s wedding and the weddings of 3 college friends. Suddenly, I was in love with the idea of getting married. In hindsight, I never reflected on this sudden urge, but there was a ready, willing, and able accomplice almost desperate for an invitation.

A dinner date seemed appropriate — a real date rather than the extra ticket trick. Dinner was nice, it since it was Atlanta in late 1977, we fucked afterwards. Rules of Atlanta singles said “Dinner + Sex = Couple so we became one. Now, I wasn’t used to having money to spend, but I had put aside some decent savings but was spending more than my monthly income on Penny. Christmas came around and we exchanged gifts. I got her a nice watch and she got me two shirts, but the kicker was to choose one so she could return the others. She lived with a roommate and her teaching job paid a little more than McDonalds. By Valentine’s Day, we knew that I would ask “that” question, but I waited until the next week. But after the four weddings nine months earlier, I was pre-destined to ask. I won’t insult her by saying she would have jumped on a corpse if it mouthed ‘will you marry me’ and I did it anyway and we were committed. We got married in June with me picking up the entire tab. Her father had passed away years ago and her mother barely had enough money to live.

This story will be 100,000 words if I don’t shorten it. We had four happy years and a daughter who I adored. I changed jobs and then another. After a year, the organization was in disarray being the smallest arm of an electronics company run by a lunatic accountant who honestly thought his finance genius could make up for a bad business model. The person that hired me got fired for the audacity to try to improve the situation. Turns out, I was the only person that liked the guy. A year later, my boss’ replacement got recruited and hired by a direct competitor but not until he and another individual pillaged the intellectual property and sales records of the company. Bozo the Clown attempted a leveraged buyout and lost it all when he wouldn’t increase the purchase price another $2 million. He was pushed out the door. Sales were so poor, we joked would the last person out that night, please set fire to the place.

As luck would have it — good luck for a change — a guy from one of our other divisions who had led the sales force was put in charge. He was also put in charge of Marketing — only that meant the entire disgruntled staff of me! Yeah, I was still carrying that butane lighter after 3 of my colleagues left. I didn’t smoke but someone was supposed to set the fire. Randy and I had meeting. He said one thing to me — something I never heard in my life! “I need you Gary, not only do I need you, but I also know what tried to do. Let me help you do it!”

God, I would have walked through fire for this guy. He wasn’t talking to “Numbnutz” or “Knucklehead”, or “STUPID” — he spoke to me. We were lucky — no one remained from the “don’t spend a penny, cut quality, cut corners, or regulatory shortcuts. It took six months and Randy already addressed the sales issues. The tracks were laid — we just needed fuel for the train. That was my job and we got great traction.

Me, I got a raise and asked to hire two people to help. I found two great candidates – one who eventually went on to reach SVP level at a major medical device company and one who stabbed me in the back for my loyalty to him. But before I was “executed”, we did turn the biggest loser into a success story for 7 years before Bozo the Clown’s clone (hired to run two organizations) decided that the person with the least knowledge is the right person to make decisions. Soon, I was gone, and 18 months later, so was that division of a foreign company.

So, back to my loving wife, Penny! Well, after living a somewhat luxurious life — my pay had increased almost 300% over those 7 years and the perks were awesome. She was able to join me in Hawaii, Switzerland, Italy, and three skiing outings in Colorado not including 3 trips to Disney. Me, during those 7 years I worked an average of 6 days and 60-65 hours a week. Yet, I was always there for my daughter and started putting aside money for her college education. My wife enjoyed spending my money but began marginalizing me in her mind and my daughter’s mind as well.

Jump forward again, my job at electronics company was eliminated following an acquisition by another mid-sized company due to overlaps. My next job — since my wife refused to move after an offer by another mid-sized company at 30% higher compensation because it was in the north where it snows. I took a job at 40% less money because most electronic companies were either in the Northeast where it snowed or offshore. By this point, my daughter had graduated from college due to her parents’ sacrifices to put her through school. Here lies the rub — the $100K college fund came from my funds only. When my daughter hit college and joined the sorority, my wife contributed about $200 a month (10X per year) for those costs. Turns out, the wife had been feeding Amy about all the sacrifices she had made. What sacrifice? Yeah, she now drank Jose Cuervo Silver instead of Gold.

Another thing about my loving wife — over the 30 years we were married she never paid a cent towards our mortgage, property taxes, utility bills, insurance, car registrations, auto maintenance, or church donations. Groceries? No, I did all the grocery shopping. She was like the story about the two politicians — one democrat, one republican — who came across a homeless guy asking for help. The Democrat said we need to do something for this guy. The Republican pulled out his wallet and gave the guy $100. The Democrat was outraged saying we can do much better than that and took the Republican’s wallet and gave him $500 more.

It was now 2005 and our daughter had graduated, married with our first grandchild on the way. My loving wife decided she was finished working — mind you we had a $3100 a month mortgage on the house she had to have and promise to contribute half to the payment. I think I got two checks over 12 years, but the mortgage was now 53% of my monthly take home. My wife doesn’t ask — the “honey, can we afford it if I retire?” No, it’s “You have a real job — I work in Education and the job sucks. I can collect retirement now if I want to!” Yes, you can, and you did honey, but you will collect 58% of the pension you would collect if you worked to 60 and when you turn 62, you’ll collect just 75% of your social security. It doesn’t matter to the woman who doesn’t pay any bills — all it did was assure that I would never see any contribution to our mortgage.

Where did her money go? Oh, hair and nails! The sob stories being told by her nail person (drives a Corvette, husband drives a King Ranch F-150) about their family struggles. How my wife justifies $30 a week and a $25 tip? They’re so poor, they can only afford store brand cat and dog food! Oh, there is her gay hairdresser (owns a house in our neighborhood and has a condo in Sandestin and $100K motor home). Every two weeks a cut and blow – $60 plus $40 as a tip and cut, color, and style every 6 weeks at $125 plus $75 tip s because he was also trying to get money to bring his toy-boy’s family to the States from the Philippines. Yep, that’s her, contributing to important causes except her own lifestyle. My marriage was on the rocks — but only to me.

I couldn’t take it. I was nearing a point where I could retire when my father got sick. We had long since buried the hatchet and learned that I am truly my father’s offspring — it was eating him up how he treated me when I was a child. It was nice to know, but it was ingrained in what we became — only I know it and fight it. I don’t think he truly saw it because he knew he was less of a beast than his father. On with the story — my father was dying, and I returned to my hometown to help him get treatment. My company had agreed to let me work remotely for a month to enable it. Our first visit to one of his doctors told me that he had four weeks — maybe as many as six before he would pass. I called my loving wife and said my father’s time was limited and I wanted her to fly up on a Friday so she could go back on Sunday to, at least, say goodbye to my dad and help console my mother. My loving retired wife with no time constraints said, “I can’t — I have Women’s Guild and Book Club coming up and I need to get ready.” That was January 12^th, 2008 — the day I decided my marriage was over. Only I never told my wife.

We were now in the 2008 recession and companies needed to cut staff. I was working for a large company as a director making almost $200K a year in 2010 when they offered two years pay to take early retirement. My job was boring after I reorganized our work group, and it was humming along on autopilot. I signed the papers right after HR delivered them and my last words at work was “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye… Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, Goodbye! I loved the Sound of Music!

My wife instantly discovered the problems with retirement — twice the husband, half of the money. We sold our house because we needed to be near our grandson. Our home had appreciated dramatically even though the real estate market was down at that time. The cash hit the bank, I set us up in a rental near our daughter’s family pre-paying 6 months in advance. But I never planned to live there with her. I was preparing our old home for the new residents when I received a petition for divorce. Her prolonged effort to beat me into the ground wasn’t working fast enough — she decided to go for a money grab, only it didn’t work.

Once retired, I could watch her full time, I realized that part of the plan. So, I did the smart thing — began grabbing assets and hoarding cash. My attorney said, ‘watch out, you’ll get caught’! I might have been more successful if I controlled the filing but was very proud protecting almost 30% of our liquid assets from community property. In the end, my attorney (yes, she was already in place) said not to be concerned who filed first. It was just causing me to react instead of act — we were ready for either. It did stop some of the financial games I was playing but would not materially impact my ability to live nicely and without the burden of an overactive consumer as a wife. She stayed in the Athens (GA) area, and I decided to put 200 miles between us. Well, almost — not quite.

I never pursued another full-time job but was regularly recruited to do consulting. No, I wasn’t a technical genius — just had a demonstrated track record of managing business critical projects to completion. Those jobs made it easy to make ends meet as I had small pensions from two companies that started when I turned 60. I moved to a town near Asheville, North Carolina. My rental condo was in the mountains and the scenery was beautiful. I could enjoy the solitude if I could totally avoid the woman who now “spits and sneers” every word she speaks to me. She even invented the term “SNARLY” — she loved that word — it applied to every utterance directed towards me along with a habit of turning away from me when she spoke, then muttering under her breath cursing the fact I was still alive. Now, all I had to do was wait out until our divorce was final. That date was scheduled to be October 29, 2011.

Penny decided I had a hearing loss and with her now out of my life, off to the audiologist I go. Yes, I have a hearing loss, mild to moderate, and they recommended a hearing aid trial. I set up the appointment and hated the idea — until it was what saved my life!

 

IN THE TIME OF ANNIE

 

I decided to go for the hearing aid fitting figuring, at worst, I would still have a mild to moderate loss. They took me to the lab — the audiogram was on the screen, and I was told Annie would be in shortly. I heard a door open, which door I didn’t know. That’s one issue of a hearing loss. I’m a decent sized guy 6-foot 1 inch, 220 chubby pounds and this person was maybe 5 feet tall and weighed 90 pounds when wet. “Hi, I’m Annie — I’ll be setting up your hearing instruments and help you get acclimated to the experience.”

“Well, Annie — I’m Gary and I’m ready for the trial fitting!” She was clearly a mountain girl. She reminded me of a lot of the folks we saw in tourist areas working at the tourist shops. They were salt of the earth people if they weren’t addicted to oxycodone or moonshine! She didn’t strike as an addict but also didn’t fit my image of an audiologist. I saw Annie’s degree on the wall – she is an Audiologist — maybe 50 years old but I saw on the wall that she had gotten her degree just 10 years ago.

I would learn little about her that day, other than she was quite plain, dressed like an Amish woman, and had pictures of her husband and daughter all over her desk. I thought to myself, when was the last time my wife had a picture of me in her wallet? The answer was — NEVER! How about the pictures from our daughter’s wedding? I remembered that I had major surgery for head & neck tumors months before followed by radiation treatment. Surgery severed my facial nerve and even after a nerve graft, it had limited function. I couldn’t generate a normal smile. Radiation burned my face and neck badly. When we went through the proofs from the photographer there was one picture of me, but my daughter decided it wasn’t a good picture and decided not to purchase it. Who paid for the pictures? Me, of course. If I had been accused of a crime committed that day, I wouldn’t have a single picture to prove I was there.

You know, writing that part was cathartic — but I realized I was like that character in the play and movie CHICAGO. I was Mister Cellophane, Amos Hart, the role played by John C. Reilly. The world never really sees me — they just see thru me. “Cellophane, Mister Cellophane, Shoulda Been My Name; Mister Cellophane, ‘Cause You Can Look Right Through Me, Walk Right by Me… and Never Know I’m There! (Mister Cellophane lyrics, Songwriters: Fred Ebb /John Kander, © Warner Chappell Music, Inc)

As my hearing aid fitting was completed and we went over how to clean, and trouble shoot I made my healthy financial contribution. Why we started, I really don’t remember — but we started to casually chat. Annie had a beautiful voice, very soothing, and a warm personality — I continued to be Mr. Carter to her. Her mountain upbringing would not allow her to use my first name. I mentioned earlier how plain she looked, until she smiled — and when she did, she was beautiful, and I felt warm all over. I am probably a one in ten million guy — having a wife ask me for divorce was greeted by a limited smile I could generate without a fully functioning facial nerve. It disguised the fact that I was happy to proceed. I could tell, listening to Annie, my smile was a big as I could generate. This woman is real — she’s nice like this to everyone. Twenty minutes later she had to leave but still had that smile. She asked if I was committed to wear the aids and I explained that my original reason to get them was at my wife’s insistence. I was about 4 months past having that reason.

Annie’s day was over, and she was anxious to get home to her husband. I learned that she takes care of their granddaughter as her daughter was still on duty at the hospital. Their office set up follow-up appointments and I headed for a brief meeting final meeting with my lawyer.

She confirmed everything was underway and I had probably released the last of the funds to my ex. The judge’s gavel would end our farce soon. I survived with enough to live on and to enjoy life. It seemed like so much less money but once I budgeted for one instead of a couple, I was amazed how much money I would save each month. I only hope any other guys my age divorcing gets that kind of result. I suspect it’s probably true!

My next three appointments with Amy were routine. I still couldn’t tell the difference wearing the aids but was told it takes about six months to get acclimated. It was a 40-minute trip from my rented condo to the clinic, but I looked forward to getting there. At each visit, I got to know her a little better and she got to know the real me, only it wasn’t the me that existed for the past 35 years. In the past 5 months, the real me began to reemerge.

Not the me that had to make my wife happy. I knew now that it was my fault that I got frustrated. I couldn’t think of one time in our marriage that I did something that made me happy, but not my wife. It was too easy to just let her have her way. I also realized that “hen-pecking” is a skill carefully developed and my wife was world champion. Homes, furniture, clothing, food, and travel were all at my wife’s command. My preferences — she would always say ‘do what I wanted’ until I started to do it and I was beaten down. I was a better than average businessperson with a very good reputation for successful projects and “go to market” plans, but I couldn’t deal with a “Bozo the Clown” boss or a wife named “Penny”.

My hearing aid progress was good — I still didn’t notice any difference but I realized I was no longer dealing with the person who thought my problem was severe. I began laughing — it wasn’t a problem; it was just another thing my wife did to control me. Annie had decided on my last visit that custom ear molds would help improve the results and make them easier to take on and off. My next appointment was set for October 29^th — the day my divorce would be final at 11am.

October 29^th arrived, and I was happy in my rental condo. It was only 900 square feet, but it was perfect as it was up in the mountains. My wife would never live in a place like this because the realtor told me it snowed every winter. That was a feature of this area. To my wife, she said why would anyone live here if it snowed. So, I after four months of renting I put made an offer to purchase the rental on the day the wicked witch of the west was killed (figuratively) by a judge’s gavel. I headed to the Otolaryngologist’s office on the wings of angels. The copy of that final document was like my personal glider, letting me float on the mountain air.

The happy office today was different — what’s up? I went to the window and said I had an appointment with Annie Harris and was told she’s not in today. The old me started popping back up but I paused and said, “Should I reschedule?”

Reception said “I can’t, I don’t’ know when she’ll be back. Her husband had a heart attack this morning and died at the hospital! I’ve made a note to call everyone back when we know, OK?”

“Sure” I answered. I stepped back, and then I started to cry. What’s happening — I didn’t shed a tear when my wife filed for divorce. No, someone’s death is far worse! God, she adored that man! I started remembering all the details of her stories about them getting married when they were 17 years old, how they lived in a broken-down trailer down in the valley and did odd jobs until she got pregnant the first time around age 20. There was a sad story there, but I didn’t want to press it. I knew she was 26 when her daughter (Amy) was born, and Amy got married a few years back at age 21. Annie called her husband Bubba, I never did get his given name. All her stories about “Bubba” showed he was the true love of her life, and it was clear they had a deep and eternal love. I realized how shallow my relationship with my wife had been. We both shared that blame.

Heck, I was just a patient of the practice and Annie was my provider. I knew her professionally and maybe a little personally. Should I call? No, that would be inappropriate. I did check the internet for obituaries and noticed that the funeral home had visitation beginning tomorrow (Thursday) at 6:00pm and again Friday between 4pm and 6pm. The burial service would be held at Calvary Cemetery on Saturday morning with Preacher Kensit Adams attending. I decided that I would go on the first night but wait until late, so the family had time together.

It was Thursday evening — almost 7:30pm when I walked in. I thought it was the wrong place — I know my glasses fogged but I could not see anyone. Late October, it was cold in the North Carolina mountains and my glasses had fogged as I walked in. As my glasses warmed and cleared, and I could see a single small figure now next to the casket. It was Annie — whispering quietly to her husband. Now I realized the benefit of my hearing aids. I would know when it was appropriate to go to her and offer my sympathies and support.

“Oh Bubba — what will I do without you? You are the love of my life — my companion, my friend, and my only lover! I’m need God to take me — I need to be with you in the next world and I don’t have the will to live any longer!” Her words stopped only because her sobbing commenced. I remember how I tried to comfort my wife when her mother died — she pushed me away and said, “I don’t need you!”. I took the hint. My experiences in these situations were not good — I had no confidence in my ability to provide any comfort.

But this time, remembering how my father and mother’s funerals affected me, I went to Annie and offer her a shoulder to cry on. Annie looked at me and said “Gary — why did you come?” I said “Annie, I’ve grown to like you as a friend as we’ve gone through the fittings. You’re hurting and I want to offer whatever help I can offer. Please, let me help you — at least tonight until they close the doors.”

With that, I opened my arms — she looked at me hesitating. I knew what she’s thinking! She’s never been in the arms of anyone but Bubba in nearly 40 years. I didn’t move away; I slowly moved a little closer and she almost fell into my arms because she needed somebody. Not to move — just to care about her! Oh boy, did I care from that moment forward. Her husband had died two days ago, and this little, tiny person had lost maybe 10 pounds already. In a larger community, her home would be filled with food, but they had been so close to each other. They had friends, but all direct relatives were long gone. Visitation hours were now over — no one else had come to pay their respects.

“Annie, you need to get a meal and some liquids in you. Let’s go down to the “Long-Gone Café” and get something nourishing in you.”

I expected a fight but there was none in her. When we sat down to eat, I began to ask about her favorite stories with Bubba and she began to talk affectionately about their lives. We had arrived at 9pm and I looked at my phone and it showed 12:58am. The restaurant always closed at 11pm. We got up and I apologized to the owner for keeping them waiting.

“We know Annie — she is goodness personified! We would have waited until it was time to reopen if the stories kept flowing. My wife and I overhead a lot of your conversation and boy was that a life worth living!”

I couldn’t agree more! I offered to drive Annie home, but she said she needed her car first thing in the morning. I walked her to her car, gave her an emotional hug, and drove to my rental condo. I realized what a wasted life I’d lived. What beautiful memories do I have? Getting married, yeah, but viewing our lives together, it wasn’t a pretty picture. Birth of my daughter — yes, that was exciting and her growing years I still treasured. Job successes were exciting at the time but eventually were followed by failures. Weddings — only my sister stayed married of the four that year. Retirement living? It was just starting but I would have traded the last three years for a mouthful of root canals. So, now I am realizing that the problem wasn’t my wife. It was me.

I thought I was loving and giving — I contributed 100% of my paychecks to the battle that was my marriage, but never 100% of me. Hell, as I began to think about it, I never even committed 50% of me. Life drove me, I didn’t offer to steer! I took no part, no risk, no invested human capital. Yet, for some reason I thought now I could help console this woman when 100% of her everything was invested in this amazing, yet common man. I couldn’t hold a candle to his life.

I was there for Bubba’s burial along with Annie, her daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter and the staff of the ENT office where Annie worked as well as friends from church. These people knew the beautiful life this couple lived. It was not carefully witnessed by others, but I decided somehow, I would show these mountain villages how important their lives were to Western North Carolina.

 

THE TREASURE NAMED ANNIE

 

Annie was able to return to work two weeks after Bubba’s burial. It was the essence of this woman. I remember a woman that worked for me years ago. Her husband passed away after a long illness. He had been declining for well over a year. When he died, she dropped off the face of the earth after his funeral and we gave her space to mourn. Our HR checked with her monthly and allowed her extended leave. But this continued for 18 months until we realized while her pain was real, it was part of the “show” to prove she loved her husband more than any other person on earth. Ten months later, she married again — a rich doctor this time. Why I thought of her at this time was weird. Annie had a work ethic that required a commitment to her patients. Out of decency, the office only scheduled new patients to eliminate the back up of hearing aid fittings but also to take the pressure off her from seeing patients who continued to offer sympathy that reopened her deep wounds. They figured Annie would want to avoid that pain getting back to the office. One appointment, though, had to be scheduled — me — Gary to get his ear molds added to his hearing aids. I don’t think anyone was ready for me — and Annie.

My appointment was at the end of the day and Annie was as efficient as ever. I tried to keep it patient/practitioner oriented but did mention again my sympathies for her loss. It had been 22 days since Bubba passed but I could see her pain was as bad as that first day. I decided to ask about her granddaughter and that got a partial smile. I offered to help her with any paperwork knowing what it would take to settle any insurance issues, taxes, social security and trying to think of something else when I noticed her wobble while standing. It made me notice she was even thinner than at the funeral home that night.

“Annie — when did you eat last?”

“I think I had breakfast yesterday morning… I ate a little bit of cereal and drank some water.”

I was thinking, that’s a mid-day snack for me. I was concerned for her health.

“Is your day over now? If so, let’s go to the Long-Gone Café and we’ll get something to eat.” I was worried that she would get angry and was so happy that she said OK, and we left her sound-proof area and headed out through reception towards the door. One of the doctors, one I had not seen before stopped me. “What are you doing? Do you know what she’s gone through?” I hesitated but a lot of the old “angry bastard” in me came out and said “Yes I do, but do you know what she’s gone through? I didn’t see you at the funeral home and I didn’t see you at the burial. I saw a lot of your staff, but why weren’t you there!”

Then I paused, “Doctor, I am very sorry! That was uncalled for — Annie has been a very caring healthcare professional helping me through my hearing issues but also listened to some of my personal issues. I just want to help her — we’re going out for a dinner and you or any of your staff are free to join us! There — that’s what I should have said initially — “I know you’re concerned about her.”

I was shocked! The doctor and his wife joined us for dinner, and he actually paid. Annie told us about another 20 loving stories about her life with Bubba and the doctor’s wife was shocked to learn about their early life together of abject poverty and how they were able to survive by hard work, completing a college education, and a deep love. I saw his wife crying about four different times. The doctor — he was a tough guy – but he kept getting dust in his eyes — both at the same time. Like most bosses, he liked his employee Annie — now he loves Annie! Probably the best $100 he ever spent.

Bubba did have a surprising amount of insurance. They lived simply and he had beefed up on term life insurance 20 years back was relatively inexpensive. If he had lived past 60, that insurance would have been at least three or four times the price, but Annie was surprised that over $500,000 in insurance would be headed her way. She could pay off the last of their debts — the $3500 remaining student loan for tuition from UNC Asheville for Annie Audiology’s degree. God were they frugal!

I was completing my final appointment with Annie wondering how I was going to keep seeing her. I made one final purchases of accessories thinking I’d have to come back but she had them in the office. Darn, that was a wasted $25! She had headed out the door as I wrapped up paying at the office. I was headed to the door when Amy returned and said her car was dead. It was early December and in this part of North Carolina not only did it get cold, but it was also snowing and sleeting at the same time. I saw that Annie was driving a 17-year-old Volvo and her battery was dead. I suspected there were some other issues as well.

“Annie — let me drive you home. You said you have AAA, lets arrange for them to take it to the Firestone place. They can assess it in the morning. After all, tomorrow’s Saturday and you don’t have to work.” I had my fingers crossed — don’t say no Annie, please!

“I shouldn’t impose — but I am supposed to babysit tonight at my daughter’s home. Can you drop me off there? ”

“I could, but it might be easier for you to babysit at your place. We can go to your daughter’s and pick up your granddaughter there. I’ll take both of you to your place and maybe she can spend the night with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have a car seat so that won’t work!” Annie said.

“Your car is still here — call your daughter and tell her that we will be there in about 45 minutes, and I’ll either drop you off or if she’s OK with you taking her to your place, I drop you off there! While you call, I’ll get your car seat out of your car and install it in my Lexus.” With that — she called, I removed the car seat and encountered an engineering effort of a lifetime to figure out how to install. That’s when Annie said it was set with her daughter and she installed the seat in my car — it took 10 seconds, maybe less!

I had seen her daughter, Amy, at Bubba’s burial but had not been introduced. I got a definite ‘evil-eye’ from her. Knowing this area like I now do, I suspect there are a lot of sinister men in their 60’s that will do anything to get a widow’s money.

“Are you going to be at my mother’s place when I get back tonight?”

I stammered — I didn’t know how to respond. Then I heard that loveable, sometimes squeaky voice off to the side say “If I’m lucky, maybe he’ll spend the night. I hear the snowfall may be 8 to 10 inches tonight!”

I saw her daughter’s jaw drop 6 inches. “Let it go, Amy! Mom can take care of herself. This is Gary and he’s been helping me deal with the loss of your dad. You weren’t there that first night at the funeral home. After 7:15, not a single person came in to say goodbye to your dad. I was so alone and Gary — he’s one of my patients — came in to sit with me, took me out to eat, and even listened to all my stories about your dad. I consider him a very good friend.”

Her daughter relaxed and said, “OK Gary, but no touching below the waist!” She laughed and we left. Annie was playing with her granddaughter turned around in the front seat. When she turned back around to face front, we looked at each other — I knew, something just changed — I felt it — in my heart! Oh God, it changed — so much better than I could have imagined.

That night, I realized I had been a lousy Dad. I didn’t want to be a lousy Dad, but my wife was so OCD, a dominant personality, and believed she was so superior to everyone that there was not room for another person. I cared about my daughter but let my wife take control. My job — just pay the bills. Yeah, that’s good for the soul!

That night, I found out that if I could let go of the old ‘me’ maybe I could be a wonderful grandfather. Annie was fully alive in her role and Gretchen loved her grandma. When Annie’s daughter called to say she would be there in 10 minutes, I opted to get my things and prepare to leave.

Annie asked me if I enjoyed playing grandpa and I said, “Definitely yes”. I mentioned helping her get her car in the morning if the snow let up and she said sure. Then she said something I didn’t quite understand. “Maybe next time, we can practice being grandma and grandpa together!” Well, technically I am a grandpa so maybe I need practice. What this dummy should have realized, I just relinquished full control of my life. As I drove to my rental, soon to be owned condo, all I thought about was picking up Annie in the morning to get her car. Turned out, there wouldn’t be a car to pick up. All the Firestone shop said that morning was, “Sorry sir, that car is deader than a door nail!”

 

CARS, CHURCHES, CONDO, and COMMITMENT

 

I called Annie Saturday morning to tell her about her vehicle. She’d seen me in my Lexus, but she didn’t know about my other car. It was a 15-year-old Toyota 4Runner that I drove back in the days when I did some off-road driving. Hearing that her vintage Volvo was “toast” made her sad. I thought she may have been concerned about the money. Then I realized I am a stupid and dense person. But I needed to stop kicking myself. I’m not stupid — just not willing to open my heart to the world around me. Maybe Numbnutz was the right name for me after all. It only took another 30 seconds to realize that the Volvo was another tie of Annie to Bubba. In fact, it had been the only new car they purchased during their marriage, and it gave them so much enjoyment and pleasure to do that together.

I was just getting ready to say something when she asked if I could help her find a cheap rental car until she could find one that she could afford. Now, I was thinking quickly, better reflexes than I had shown for 61 years.

“Annie, I have another car — probably better suited for this weather than my Volvo. You can use my Lexus and I’ll drive the Toyota until I can find the right car to replace the old one. That way, I don’t have to park the Lexus on the street in front of my condo.”

“Gary, you shouldn’t give up your Lexus, it’s a beautiful car!”

Quick Gary, think of a comeback, “Annie, the Lexus is the right car but for a family. The best part is pairing a beautiful person and a beautiful family with the right car!” Damn, that sounded stupid. I knew she would say no, take me to get a rental.

“Gary — that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you for your offer, and I will take you up on it, but for no more than a month!”

“Sure Annie, that will work. By then, I’ll know what I will buy so it will work out perfectly! Can you do lunch today, I come over to get you to let you take me home afterwards. The ‘4Runner’ is in the public parking area right now.”

I was at her place around 11:15am. There was a warm, smiling person greeting me. I felt so good, awesome but then I saw her rocking chair and her memories of Bubba. She’d been talking to him. He had made her feel special today — I was here for lunch. I wish I could be her warm and tender place!

We decided to go to a small place further up the mountain. It was so close to Christmas, I hoped it wouldn’t be crowded. I was surprised. The area was mobbed but the restaurant wasn’t that busy. The booths for two were all vacant so we picked the one by the front window. Snow had started to fall, and it was a Christmas postcard view. We chatted, laughed, and cried a little for over two and half hours. I saw that Annie needed to say something important. I was scared! For the first time in my life, I was petrified. Annie was going to tell me to back off, it was too soon, and I had spoiled my opportunity. NO, here it comes!

“Gary, I want to thank you for this delightful day and a delicious lunch. I need to say some things to you! Please, your look tells me you are insecure. Don’t be that way. When you came to my home today, I think you noticed I had been in my comfort spot with my special treasures of my life with Bubba. Nothing will ever stop me from my memories. But last night, I prayed to God for his help and Bubba came to me in my dreams. I spoke to him, yes, I really spoke to him, and he responded as a husband with a concern I was planning to be with him again soon. But I wanted to talk to him about you — then he stopped me!”

Shit! Bubba told her not to worry – only he can protect her! Only he can be her lifetime lover and friend. Bubba, I don’t want to replace you! I only want to give her love and protection so she can continue her life of dedication to you!

“Gary — Bubba spoke to me and said “Gary will never replace me because he respects the love that we had. But Annie, he loves you as much or maybe even a little more than I did because he hasn’t had love in his life. His heart is strong now, but I don’t think he will live a long life. Give him the love he’ll cherish, including the physical love to bring happiness to your life. Let him do the things he can offer now so you can enjoy life together. Gary, I prayed again this morning and I heard him say ‘he’ll come to you today! Tell him — tell him you feel his love and someday soon, you will love him back! Gary, that’s what I want to tell you — give me a little time and I will love you all of the days of your life.”

I broke down and cried right there. The shopping crowd had come in for hot chocolate and snacks and here was this 61-year-old bawling his eyes out at the table. Annie was embracing me and holding me tight. I felt like a newborn child — all the weight on my shoulders from my upbringing and marriage disappeared. My tears slowed, Annie’s grip allowed me to feel her heart beating, her breath, her hair, her strength made me hope for a long life together.

She said that we should head back to my house so I could get my car. She would head back to her house in the morning for church. I said I want to go with you so let’s just stop at your place. She said no, she wanted to spend the night with me — not making love but loving each other hoping for the day when she would be ready for the physical act of love. That, she said, would still take time, but she would be ready, and that day would come soon.

We did church the next day. Her daughter and son-in-law had started attending her new church as well. They found great comfort being around these like-minded people. Most were simple, giving, and Christian people holding true to the values of loving each other as much as they loved God. Bubba could have been the pastor of this church!

I was getting used to my 4Runner when I found a good deal on a used Range Rover, about four years old but with low mileage. I would have to head up to Raleigh to pick it up, but it wouldn’t be a tough trip. One thing I didn’t realize was the reaction of Annie’s office to her showing up in a high-end Lexus with all the features. It was now after New Year’s, so it had only been two months since Bubba had been buried. I was already up in Raleigh when she called crying that I had to take the car back — people didn’t understand!

That’s an event I knew I would have to stop — in her office of all places. I remembered how catty those types of places could be. I called Dr. Rodgers — the doctor who had joined us for dinner that night after the wake for Bubba. He said he would meet with the staff in the morning and asked if I could come. I guaranteed him I would be there and asked if I should bring my Glock because someone would be punished. He laughed and said no, just bring the person he had dinner with that night! Things would change for the better.

When I arrived, their meeting was already done. From the appearance of the staff, they were ashamed of what they had done. It was common practice in the office to mock a member of the staff when something good came there way. They felt even worse when they saw me! Great, Annie needs someone to bring her though this. I told them about the two cars, not a big deal, yadda, yadda, yadda, and a final delicate “mind your own business”!

Annie and I had dinner at her place that night and she explained how everyone, without exception, came in to apologize. She felt relieved but also a little sorry that office dynamics had to be altered a bit. Then she delivered the good news — Amy was pregnant again and was already four months along when she told her mother. She said it clearly happened around the time of her father’s death, but she was feeling very healthy and happy — it’s a boy and her husband is already buying footballs, basketballs, and golf equipment. He never liked baseball.

Annie and I were diligent church goers and involved in church projects. We were helping with an Asheville Food Pantry and serving meals to the homeless and food-insecure folks of the area. Since I’m retired, I had lots of time and became a better cook doing food prep and chef work for 150 people a day. I loved it — I’ve learned so much talking to these people. Drug and alcohol addiction was prevalent but that was an ‘effect’ rather than the cause’ which included a terrible home environment, lack of education, instability, and no access to resources designed to help. This became a new project for the church.

Amy was at eight months and had come down the mountain for her doctor’s visit. She and Annie got together afterwards — it was a short day at the office. At 4pm, Annie came over to my condo unannounced. It had been a rough day at the soup kitchen and my nerves were frayed, but now I was scared. Why? Did I do something wrong? Did she speak with Bubba, and he told her to avoid me?

I opened the door — Amy waved goodbye, then I noticed that Annie had a small suitcase with her.

“Come in Annie — this is a surprise!” I said that cautiously waiting for the next shoe to drop.

“Gary, I’ve spent hours in my rocker the past week, many more than any week until this point. I’m speaking with Bubba every night. He’s angry with me now Gary! He wants to know what I am waiting for! Go to you and make love, share what Bubba and I had. Physical love needs to follow emotional love. He raised his voice to me Gary! He’s never done that. He said, ‘You two have both, plus the love of others seeing what you do at the church!’ Gary, please make love to me tonight! Be tender please — you are a larger man than Bubba and I am tiny — but I love you and want to be with you for the rest of my life!”

My ‘Doctor Doom’ persona had conjured up all these negative thoughts. Yet the day ended as the happiest day of my life to that point! Not even close — the act of love was beyond belief. I know now I never copulated with a woman with this tenderness and love. Macho guys always talked about fucking their wives, dates, or one-night stands into the bed. Guys, nothing beats a true act of love!

Annie was still sleeping in the morning and the beautiful smile on her face announced the next step in our life together. I called the clinic to tell them that I didn’t think she’d be in today and they said “she told us that yesterday when her daughter picked her up. She said she was going to show Gary — that’s you, how much she loves him. She did that, didn’t she?”

“Oh yeah — it was a life altering event!”

The clinic administrator had to laugh. “I won’t tell Annie that but be sure to keep that in your memory forever!”

When I turned around, I saw Annie coming out of the bedroom. I wasn’t prepared, but I dropped to my knees and said ‘Annie, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that I haven’t waited long enough, but I want you and need you to become my wife and soul-mate!”

Annie looked serious and said “Gary, too many words! I love you and will be your wife until the day I die! Please hold me and kiss me and get me a cup of coffee!”

We waited to announce anything to others until Amy’s son arrived in the world in early March. He was a big boy, 8 pounds even, 25 inches long. He was named Joshua Israel — Amy’s dad’s given name but we were assured by age five they would call him Bubba!

Our marriage followed a month later in front of the parishioners assembled one Sunday morning. We were becoming very popular and there was a huge round of applause that followed. We were extra excited, because we had closed on a new residence higher up the mountain in a new planned community. It offered a lot of amenities that the grandkids and Amy’s daughter and husband could enjoy.

We took our four-year-old granddaughter on her first trip to Disney World. It was great fun for her, and it was very romantic for the two of us. She was spending a lot of time with us that summer as her mother was very busy having gone back to work after her maternity leave.

In July, we decided that Annie no longer needed to work as we found an affordable healthcare plan for us until both of us qualified for Medicare.

We loved our new community and had been there about 10 months when they had another welcoming party for the new residents. This area was well known and populated by retirees from the Atlanta, Nashville, Charlotte, Raleigh, and cities in Virginia residents. We knew our immediate neighbors but there were around 500 people living in this community.

I adored having Annie on my arm. I felt her warmth and her heart. We had hooked up with a local Christian church and Annie was now in charge of anything and everything charitable. There was one couple she wanted me to meet from our church and she thought she saw them over by the bar. I wanted to pick up another Diet Coke and showed her where I would be.

Annie was at least 15 inches shorter than the guy. His name was Terry and he and his wife were from Florida but moved here to be closer to her kids. Her name was Janice and, as I shook her hand, she looked at me in a strange way.

Janice asked, “Did you ever live in Atlanta?”

I answered yes.

“Did you have a friend named Penny?” I felt weird — I wanted to cut this short “Yes, I was married to Penny for over 30 years!

“You probably don’t remember me — I was a lot thinner back then. I had come to Atlanta to get away from my second husband, does that sound familiar?”

Oh NO, another ghost from the past! Is Penny hiding behind a door somewhere? I thought I was having a PTSD episode. This can’t come out – I mean in front of Annie! Annie and Janice both looked at my discomfort and laughed.

“Busted, Gary! I’ve been doing church work with Janice, and we already figured out that my husband was quite a lover back in the day. Terry is Janice’s first husband. After the issues with her 2^nd husband following the birth of her son, they reunited, and he was able to help her divorce him after he put her in the hospital. He’s raised their boy since he was three months old.”

“Janice, I’m so glad how that worked out for you! So how old is your boy?” I said.

“Gary, I thought I had a bigger impact on you! You should know how old my boy is!”

Clearly, another case of not thinking things through. Yes, I knew, but I said, “A gentleman never tells!” I heard the other three laughing hard. No ill feelings here, until she said “He was the best lover I’d ever experienced, that is, until I hooked back up with Terry. No one will ever do what that man does for me.”

 

THE LAST STRAW

 

I’d love to tell more stories about our ten years together. I can only tell you that they were the happiest years of my life. I had a loving family, a loving stepdaughter and son-in-law, grandkids I adored, and friends, lots of friends! Life was so good that I knew it was too perfect. It was time to interrupt the good times.

I hadn’t followed up on my surgery in years. There was no need — the tumors had been removed; they weren’t a malignant cancer. The likelihood of them reoccurring and being cancer were less than 1 in a 100. It should have been a lottery ticket. At least I would have collected some cash. Not only cancer, but it had also metastasized to my colon and prostate. Too far gone for any treatment — it would only add 4 to 6 weeks of painful time to my life.

When I spoke with Annie, the smile I adored left her face. I could see this ‘not again’ look and lots of tears already flowing. I told her the problem was our ten years were like 50 happy years to me and I hoped I made her happy too! I got a look I didn’t like. “Annie, please tell me, our years were happy, right?”

“Gary — you are the love of my life, more than equal to Bubba. He and I had the hard years. It was no fault of his, but we shared that hard work to make it better. We had a somewhat easier path, but you faced helping me pull out of the deep depression of my husband’s death. Since that day, my life is picture perfect. I can’t have the love of my life leave me again. I will be with you through this, and then be with you forever.”

I was about a week away from being transported to hospice and was mentioning my conversation with Annie to the nurses who would support me until the end. I saw alarms going off in their eyes! “I will be with you through this, and then be with you forever.” The nurses asked me “Could your wife become suicidal at your death? That sounded like her telling you she’s going to end her life at your death!”

I knew in a week I’d be too weak to do what needed to be done so I contacted Amy — now I call her my daughter, our pastor, and even the doctors from the ENT office where she worked. We developed a plan to intervene. Annie has so much to live for — her daughter, her grandchildren, her ex-coworkers who love her, the church, the people she’s helped. A plan was in place driven by Amy to make sure Annie knew how much she is needed.

I started going downhill in a hurry and asked to see Amy first. I begged her to get help for her mom if she showed any tendency to commit suicide. With that promise in place, Annie came in and fell on the bed with me crying and sobbing deeply. I saved as much strength as I could muster for this moment and hugged and embraced her with all my strength. I felt her embrace — it was as warm and tender as on that first night. I felt at peace. Amy was sobbing more deeply! Why are there alarms going off? Why did they pull a sheet over my face?

What the heck is up? Oh, now I know — “Hello Bubba — glad to finally meet you in person. Gosh, Annie loved you so much. Thank you for helping me love her and care for her!”

“Gary, you and Annie were meant to be — she will remember you for the rest of her life. But you know what she’s thinking now, right?”