I woke up this morning at 4:15 am thinking of Jenny, and came out here on my back porch, and watched the day wake up, and wrote this story. Today is her birthday. If she was still alive, she would be 68 years old, and I would have been with her for 46 years. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think of her. And I miss her still.
One June, in 1980, back when we lived in Little Rock, it had been a very hard school year for her. She was a master teacher, and poured her heart and soul into her job. Teachers have a hard job, and often, at the end of a school year, they are nearing burn out. This year had been harder than most, and she was tired, and had black circles under her eyes. Her normally positive energy was at an all time low. As a teacher, she had summers free, and our policy had been that we would live on my income until the next school year started, and she would take the summer to rest and recuperate. I was worried about her. She needed the upcoming summer break more than usual.
About two months ago I had received a small inheritance from my grandmother who had died back in the spring. It was only $5000, but that was a nice chunk of change back then, and we decided to replace the old gas hog Ford F-150 that we had been driving since back at the end of college. I wanted a smaller pickup truck, and I spent a week driving to new car dealers in the evenings, looking at what was available. It would be my first new vehicle that I had ever bought, and I was excited. I test drove every small pickup that the dealers had to offer. I winnowed it down to two, a Dodge D-50, and a Toyota SR5. Both had 4 cylinder engines, and got good gas mileage, which would be a break from the 10 miles per gallon we were getting with the Ford.
The Ford was a big truck, with big rectangular trailer-hauling mirrors sticking out on both sides, and more than once, on her way to school, Jenny would cut the corner going on to the Arch Street bridge over the Arkansas River a little bit short, and clank the right mirror on the bridge structure. The mirrors had breakaway mounts, so it didn’t really hurt anything except that the back of the right mirror was dented and scraped up. That engendered this conversation…
Sam: I see you hit the bridge again. The mirror is folded back against the side.
Jenny: Oh, I don’t use that mirror anyway. I clanked the bridge on monday, and just left it folded back.
Sam: Maybe you could think about not cutting that corner onto the bridge so short.
Jenny: Well, now that the mirror is folded back, I don’t need to worry about it any more.
There are those times in a marriage that you just have to accept things that are cognitively dissonant.
As always, with a big decision, I needed Jenny to be a part of it, so I took her to the Dodge and Toyota dealers so that she could test drive the trucks too, and have her say. I was leaning toward the Toyota because it was a proven reliable truck. Jenny drove both trucks and when she came back after driving the Dodge, I could see that it was the one she favored. It was bright orange, with two black and yellow stripes running from front to back, and had a tubular black roll bar in the bed. It was sporty, and ran like a scalded cat. The key to a good marriage is to make your wife smile, when you can. We bought it.
Jenny was a lead-foot driver. During college I had a blue Volkswagen bug, which she loved to drive. She said it was like driving a go-kart. She would drive the bug to school on the days where her job kept her at school later than me. Occasionally I would be walking home from classes, to the house where we lived on the other side of Wilmington, about 3 miles from campus, and as I cut through the back alleys, I would see at the end of the alley, a blue blur flashing by on the city street ahead of me. For Jenny, I think the orange screamer was just a different shaped go-kart, and it had a lot more zip than the VW.
The day that school was over that year, Jenny dragged into the house like a zombie.
Sam: Honey, you look terrible. Are you ok?
Jenny: I am so exhausted. I didn’t think the year would ever end.
Sam: You need to do something this summer to rejuvenate yourself.
Jenny: I have been thinking about that all the way home.
Sam: You should take your summer check, and spend it on yourself. My salary will keep us solvent.
Jenny: Do you mean that?
Sam: Yes. Completely. You need it.
Jenny: (hesitantly) I would like to go and visit my parents up in Ohio. Um, in the new truck. You can ride your motorcycle to work for a month or two, can’t you?
Sam: Ok by me. Sounds good.
A couple days later, I came home from a 10 hour day at the 84 Lumber lumber yard where I was working, and walked into our house, and standing in the kitchen was this beautiful woman, in grey tights, and those big floppy socks puddled around her ankles, and a cream cable knit turtleneck sweater. She had streaked blonde running to red and then black hair. Her make up was subtle but stunning. It was an angel descended from heaven.
Sam: Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?
Jenny: (laughing) Do you like my hair? I had it styled, and then “minked”. And I bought some new clothes. And I swiped your Victoria’s Secret card, and bought some sexy undies.
Sam: Um, I can’t wait to see them. Your hair is beautiful!
And it was. There were 5 or 6 shades of blonde and red streaked through it, and the cut was just right for her face. Best of all, though she still looked tired, she was beaming a huge smile. She was making a great start on her summer of rejuvenation.
A week later, she took off in my new truck that I had only driven for a month. Our new truck. She was gone for about two months. I talked to her once on the phone, when she was at her mom and dads house. I missed her so much. I drove back and forth to work, rain or shine, on my Honda 350. I worked my fairly boring job selling lumber and supplies. I read a lot in the evenings. The house was so quiet and empty without her. That was the longest time that we had ever been apart since I became her boyfriend.
When she got back in August, she looked great. Her face was radiant. The black circles were gone. Her hair had grown out a little, and looked even better than it had when she left. Her positive energy was back in full force. She was looking forward to getting back into the classroom. Our homecoming was passionate.
She didn’t talk much about her summer, except to say that she had had a good time in Ohio, and had driven up to Chicago to visit Woody, our friend from college. When I went to gas the truck up a couple of days later, I saw that she had put 16,000 miles on it. Wherever she went, it had done the trick, and brought her back to herself. I was thankful.
I miss you Jenny. <3
Marriage was the second best thing that I ever did. <3