A tale of two marriages


Of all the the poetry and prose I wrote on these pages, I largely neglected to write about the love that blossomed in my heart for the woman I would eventually marry. I'm sorry. Maybe it wasn't for public consumption. You could say I learned my lesson. You could say a lot of things. The truth of the matter is I just didn't have time. I was too busy falling in love and spending time with or talking to the one I love. It took up too much space in my life. What was imagined in the past was real this time. 

If you think things moved fast, you're right. The girl I married, whose name is Erika, didn't even want to get married. Her previous marriage was a nightmare that still haunted her, save the fact that she got two wonderful boys from that union. She put me on the "2-3 year plan." So, how did we get here? 

I could break down the circumstances that got us here. Or I could simply answer with, "I prayed." I prayed that, if God would bless our union, He would move us forward as fast as possible, not wanting to waste time, as I did in the past, if things weren't meant to be. Within a short amount of time, we were engaged. Then married. The first wedding (yes, there were two, as it is illegal to marry outside the state of Florida when you live here) was in June. It was a small ceremony with our three boys, me and E, and our pastor and his wife. The next came three weeks later in July. We married in her home state of Georgia among family and friends (including my two brothers, one with his wife and one with his son) and had our honeymoon there among the Georgia pines in an adorable cabin with a squeaky bed that took some abuse. I loved the sound of the rain on the tin roof and the fact that she somehow made us steak and crab legs on that tiny stove. 

I could say so much about the journey toward marital bliss. Little did I know when I moved here in June of last year that I would be engaged within a year. Little did I know I would be married in a little more than a year. By abandoning my plan and accepting what God had for me, I gained a new, wonderful life. And a woman who loves me in a way that makes me feel as if I have never been loved before. The contrast is that big. She feels like the first person who has ever loved me. Is she perfect? No, but she's perfect for me. 

When she started talking to me, she sensed a lingering pain. She thought I was a good man, but her curiosity drew her in. Because she's a fixer. And she's fixing me. Never have I healed so much and so fast by the hands of one person. I'm becoming whole again. She's like an IV and blood transfusion and a B12 shot in the ass (which she has done for me) and emergency surgery all in one. As I told anyone who would listen, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Besides Jesus, of course, and my son. But those are very different things. And she said I was the man she prayed for since she was 8 or 9 years old. It was an epic love story. And I wrote next to nothing about it. 

I am a repository of knowledge. Of heartbreak. But of love, too. I know what it doesn't look like. I know what it does look like. I know what I have now. And it's beautiful. Permit me some time to hold it close before I talk about. It was a long, chaotic journey. But God finally answered my prayer. At the age of 48, I found true love. My person. My best friend. My all-in-one. I finally found the love of a lifetime, as the song says. But you know what, that's not true. I didn't find her. She didn't find me. I believe God saw our broken pasts and simply let us meet, let us see one another, and left the rest up to us. We chose this. We chose one another. God just gave us a chance at what we asked for most of our lives. He didn't force it. He didn't have to. We locked it down as soon as we knew what we were looking at. For both of us, it was a fast recognition and the rest is history. 

My first marriage was in 2004. The day after we were married, I had a horrible hollow spot in my chest, like something was wrong, missing even. I never spoke of it until I neared my second marriage. Erika asked me the day we married if I had that hollow feeling, said she knew that feeling too. It says you chose wrong. I knew I wouldn't this time. I did not. There was nothing but a full, bursting love in my heart for her. Everything was as it should have been. The night we reached our cabin in the woods, we sat outside on a swing for a few minutes. Never in 48 years have I felt so happy as at that moment. I was where I wanted to be with who I wanted to be with. 

For the longest time, I felt jealous when I heard someone died. Having endured so much pain for so long, I asked God so many years to simply take me. Suffice to say I no longer wish to die. What E and I have is rare. I'm glad I got to experience true love. If I died now, I would die with a smile on my face. Of course, E is adamant I go back to the doctor and do whatever is necessary to get well. 


I'm sorry if I painted a poor picture of love on these pages. The real thing is out there. It's just very rare, but you know it when you find it. Ask God to lead you into it. 

Thank you for reading. And God bless.

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