Close to Nowhere
April 24, 1970. Fifty years ago Doyle Jones and Linda Duke, both very young and very dumb, got married against all advice. Everyone said, "It won't last." My mother, Thelma, told me later that the only reason she agreed was because she was so positive my father Elmer (how he got Bill out of that, I'll never know) would never in a million years agree.
Boy, was she surprised. I spent the week before our wedding (we eloped) in the hospital with food poisoning canned chili on a hot dog. I came home from the hospital that morning, pulled my Easter dress and shoes out, got dressed and off Doyle (Butch, then Pop) and I went.
I had avoided a date with the extra-pushy Doyle for two years. Finally, a mutual friend dared me. The first place we went was to his house. His parents, mom Jimmie, dad Clifford, his grandmother, two aunts and one of his cousins were all sitting in the living room waiting to meet me.
Now, you have to remember that I'd only gone out with him on a dare. I did not like him at all! So, when he introduced me and he said, "This is Linda. She's the girl I'm going to marry," I almost fainted.
While we were at the gas station, a classmate who worked there said something to him about our being out together. Doyle told him the same thing. I just cringed in the car.
Surprisingly, we had a lot of fun. We went to Shoney's and had Big Boy burgers and then we went to play pool. He was delighted when I beat him and bragged about that for years. He also bragged because the first time I shot his .22 rifle, he discovered that I was a good shot. I'd never even seen a gun before then.
Gas was 25 cents a gallon. We spent about $10-$12 a week on groceries. We had a very nice apartment $80 a month. A year and a half after we got married, we had a baby girl. She was (and is) so loved and treasured. Jimmie and Clifford were first-time grandparents and we didn't have a clue as to what to do with a baby. For a long time, Jimmie would come to our house every morning and help me give Dana a bath.
June 20, 2014, Doyle died after a long, hard, painful illness. He never lost his sense of humor or managed to hold onto his temper. After my mom died, we adopted my younger brother (14 at the time) and to his dying day, Pop introduced Danny as "our boy."
When son Kristian was born with a very serious birth defect, and I was still in the hospital, he took care of paperwork, meeting with doctors and all the very painful details by himself.
There were many, many days when one or the other of us was mad enough at the other to inflict pain. Sometimes, our words were worse than physical abuse.
But most of the time, I leaned heavily on the fact that he was made of solid rock. I could yell out and ask him any math problem (usually measuring in sewing) and he instantly knew the answer. He could answer any trivia question asked him, We had a lot of fun in the 44 years we were married, even when he dragged me, crying all the way, out of Memphis, Tenn., and down in the wilderness of Mississippi.
This past Friday, April 24, 2020, would have been our 50th wedding anniversary. I celebrated by being in selfquarantine, without kids, grandkids or even great-grandkids.
I wasn't really alone though. Pop has never really left us. Every one of us around here has felt his presence many times. You can almost always hear him clomping through the house.
Happy anniversary, Pop...