I have long been an admirer of the late Paul Harvey. Not of his politics, mind you. It was his writing style that I found a certain similar spirit, and it’s something that I try to embody in my own efforts. Harvey had a way of introducing his listener to a premise or theme, cutting to “meanwhile, back at the ranch,” then bringing it back home with “the rest of the story.”
If I had started this tale, I’d digress… but I haven’t, so I guess I’ll begin with May 6th, 2022. There was a concert in town that night that featured Kem and Babyface, two hot R&B artists. Kem was the headliner of what he had named his “Full Circle Tour.” And as I sat in the audience, listening, clapping along, singing along in an overeager yet unfulfilled baritone, I thought to myself, “how appropriate.”
In 1994, things were in a time of confusion. I had challenges in my work life, was trying to find my personal voice and love was nowhere to be found. In the midst of all that, I decided to lift my spirits by visiting The Comedy Zone here in Charlotte.
I was seated at a table close to a young lady who was alone. The first thing I noticed was her nose. I’ve always had, oddly enough, a thing for noses, and hers was one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen. Being a little on the shy side, it took me a little while to get past the mumblingfumblingstumbling stage and open my mouth to speak, but when I did, I was blessed with a smile that lit up the room. I soon found out that her name was Patricia, she lived in a town close by, and that she was the sister of someone I already knew. Hoping against hope, I asked her for her number and she shared it with me.
Over the next few weeks, we started dating, spending time and things blossomed into a romance. She had two wonderful children, Welton and Sarah, whom I grew to think the world of. I rode them through the neighborhood on my motorcycle, their mother cringing in fear all the while, and we took trips with me as a newly licensed private pilot. She even stayed with my mother and sister when I took her to a family reunion with me in Baltimore, where we took the cover photo. Things were great… but I was not.
She was an elementary school teacher, who worked long hours on the weekend to support her family. I was opinionated, regimented and too stupid to realize the glorious gift that God had bestowed on me.
So I did what most opinionated, regimented and too stupid young men do. I let the best thing that ever happened to me drift away. I’ll come back to that later.
Over the years, I’d see her in social settings, or at her school, and we were always cordial. Meanwhile, I noticed one thing. It would have been easy for her to disparage me to her kids, but she didn’t. They always greeted me with respect, if not downright love.
Time moved on. I married another, she became involved in a long term romance herself, and we grew further apart.
In the spring of 2012, I noticed she was on Facebook and I reached out to friend her. She accepted and we started noticing each other. By this time I was divorced, and had reached out to her some months without telling her so, and was promptly rebuffed. However, we continued to notice each other on good ol’ FB, and time passed on.
Fast forward to May of 2017, and my JCSU class reunion. I’m there in the middle of the dance floor and I hear my name. It was Pat, making her way to me in a walking cast. She came to me and hugged me. Looking around to see her boyfriend headed toward the restrooms, I did what every regimented, opinionated and too stupid guy in life would do. I said “letting you go was the worst mistake I’ve made in my life.”
She said “my life is good, I’m doing well…” and I said, “I just wanted you to know.” By now, Michael Jackson had been singing “I Want You Back” in my ear for many years, quietly but louder as time progressed.
Later that year her sister died, and I debated going to her funeral about 60 miles or so out of town in Chesterfield. Thought about it. Studied about it. Prayed about it. Knew I shouldn’t, for I knew her friend would be there.
I went anyway, saw her and paid my respects. On the way home Michael and the boys were in the vamp… (it’s a musical term at the end of a song meaning repeat with intensity)
Meanwhile, life moved on. My personal relationship, that started a few years earlier, had its ups and downs in the summer and fall of ‘21… while Pat’s boyfriend developed a debilitating disease and passed away a year earlier.
Then my mother died in November. She reached out to me, and paid a visit a couple of days afterwards. We had a couple of phone conversations afterwards, and then I wrecked my motorcycle six days after her transition.
For the sake of people that don’t need to be included here, I’ll advance this story to January. By then, after six days in the hospital, seven broken bones and no longer in a relationship, Pat and I had begun to have conversations… but, because at no time in our earlier meetings had I let her know I was no longer married, she looked at me as a brother figure, and she let me know. On the mend at that point, and with no possibility with Pat in sight, I decided to try Facebook Dating.
The FIRST woman that popped up… was Pat.
So, we had a long, interesting text conversation in which she reiterated wanting me to be a brother to her. Well, when MJ has thrown down the mike, jumped on your shoulder and started screaming in your ear, you find yourself doing what most regimented, opinionated and too stupid men do.
I told her “I want to be your man, or nothing” and “what you’re looking for could be right here under your face.” I got a most unexpected response in return.
“Bye.”
Three days later, Pat called. It seemed she was taking part in a church fast and needed a strong back and weak mind to participate. I said “what do we not eat” and she said “what you fast is your choice.”
After I hung up, I said to myself, “okay… I know what I’m going to give up. I’m going to give up you, and if you come back it’ll be because God sent you.”
It was past the ides of January before the phone rang. It was Pat, checking on me. I had a hard time understanding why someone who told me bye was reaching out, but I went with it.
Two days later, she reached out again. Then, a day later she called again, and said “you can call me if you like.” Thank you God.
We started dating, then on February 11th I received the strangest request I’ve heard in life. “Do you want to ask me to be your lady?” I said “of course” and we became an item.
I asked her to marry me on March 20th, and she accepted.
The brevity in which I described the last few months rivals the whirlwind courtship, but when I say that I was right when I said I’d made the worst mistake in life… it’s true… and I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up.
Thank you, God, for bringing us full circle.
And now, you know… the REST of the story.
For now.
“Good… day!”
Life On The Road 