My childhood could best be described as good I guess except for the part when my dad left us in 1980. There was no sit down discussion or explanation as to why or no reassurances of love and keeping in touch. One day I suddenly learned my dad wasn't happy, and a short time later he was gone. Just gone. He moved to a nearby town, and at first I do believe he tried really hard to spend time with me, but then he moved to Fort Worth and then as the years went by, he lived in Louisiana, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Missouri. Am I forgetting a state? Anyway, in October of 1981 another man entered into my life, and at first I wasn't really thrilled about it. I had had my mom to myself for a year and didn't want to share her. His name was Bobby, and he and Mom met at a wedding reception. They started dating and going dancing, or he would come over to our house and hang out. My mom literally morphed after her marriage to my dad ended. She lost 75 pounds, started wearing nicer clothes that actually matched, began wearing makeup, and went to the beauty shop once a week. It was a huge transformation. I'd never really seen her happy and smiling as big as she did when she was with him. I don't remember feeling jealous, but people said that I was because she was spending all her free time with Bobby. I remember one evening he was over, and I must have made a remark about him being over AGAIN because my mom took me aside and told me she really liked him and was happy and had a good time when they went out, but I came first, and if I wanted her to, she would tell him to go. My friend Tiffany was spending the night I think because she was there. She told me that she had been through her mother having boyfriends and getting remarried so she understood how I felt, but she said that Bobby was a good man and made my mom happy, and my mom deserved to be happy so give him a chance. I did. He also figured out the way to my heart. I was sitting on the couch one evening when he was at the house, and he came and sat by me. He asked me if I liked Mexican food. DO I LIKE MEXICAN FOOD???? Yes, I do! So he told me that he and Mom were going to go to El Chico's on Thursday of the next week, and I could go if I wanted to go with them. And I did. (And they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach! haha) From then on, for the most part, I was included in their dates instead of being left out. Now if they went out to a honky tonk, I'd stay with a friend or neighbor. Mom and Bobby got married a mere 4 short months later on February 13, 1981 in Texarkana, TX. The wedding was small and intimate with the reception held at the home of a friend named Mabel Jones. Bobby looked handsome in his suit, and my mother looked absolutely beautiful and happy in her light blue dress. I had never seen her smile as much or as big before she met Bobby.
Bobby was everything my dad was not. He was sensitive and approachable. He was very kindhearted and pretty much soft-spoken. If he got mad enough, now watch out, but that was few and far between. He would watch a sad commercial or something that reminded him of his late wife Sarah and tear up or even cry. I know Bobby loved me and my mom, but my mom could never take Sarah's place. She was the love of his life and had raised a family of 5 children with her. I could talk to Bobby about anything. Bobby was the one who saw me through the boyfriends (that were never good enough for me according to him), the teenage years, middle school, high school, and the beginning of college. To say Bobby spoiled me would be a huge understatement. My mom always used to say she didn't spoil me; Bobby did. I could eat what I wanted where I wanted. I could drink sodas and eat between meals. If I didn't want what was for dinner or a holiday meal, he'd go to McDonald's and get me what I wanted. Sometimes it made my mom mad. I was happy, though. LOL Hell, I got a brand new car when I was 16! What 16 year old NEEDS a brand new car??? His reasoning was, though, that he was getting up in age and I would be going to college soon, and he said he may not be around or able to go rescue me if I break down so he wanted me in a new car that would last longer and hopefully be reliable for a long time. I had that car till after I became a mother.
Speaking of cars, one time on the way home from somewhere (I don't remember where), Bobby pulled over on the side of the road all of a sudden and said, "It's about time you learn how to drive." I WAS 12!!!! I was shocked. I was like, "No, Momma will be mad that you let me drive." He dismissed that plea and said I needed to know how to drive so he gave me a driving lesson. Funny thing, though, that was the last time he did that. Maybe he thought I nailed it on the first try, or it could be the very wide turns I made turning onto our street and then into our driveway. I think I stopped a few inches short of our trailer. I guess it'll just have to remain a mystery.
Bobby was also my defender. He never spoke ill of my dad, but I know it hurt him when my dad hurt me or disappointed me. Bobby would defend me when my mom was upset with me stating that I was just a kid and to calm down. He had raised 5 kids and had been through it all by the time I became a teenager. He wasn't a lazy parent or uncaring. He was empathic, understanding, calm, and fair. One specific example I recall is my freshman year when I went to the Jr./Sr. Prom with my boyfriend, who was a senior. For some reason, Mom thought the prom was held at the high school, but it was held at a lodge in Longview. She didn't really ever give me a curfew, but I guess when I didn't get home by the time she thought I would be, she went up to the high school to see if she could find me, and alas, no cars were in the parking lot! (I know---it's actually a hilarious scene. It was the 80s not the 50s. Who has their prom in the high school gym anymore?) Boy, when I did get home (and at a reasonable time I might add), she tore into me. No, she didn't hit me, but she yelled and accused and screamed, "Where have you been?" I told her the prom to which she replied, "Bullsh*t! I went up to that high school, and there was no prom going on!" Now where the HELL else would I have gone all dressed up in a huge prom dress???? It was the 80s so my dress, although pretty, was more like the style from the Scarlett O'Hara collection, but I digress. My point is, he totally had my back.
I just hope I had his back. Just a few weeks before I graduated from high school in 1989, my stepbrother Bobby Earl passed away. He lived in California, North Hollywood as I recall. We knew he had been sick, but I guess it still came as a shock to everyone. I'll never forget that day. Mom and Bobby shared a car, and I had mine. They both worked locally and would take turns picking up the other one from work. On this particular day, they had planned to go do something like run an errand or go grocery shopping...I don't remember exactly what....but instead, Mom drove home. He asked her why they were going home. She told him that they needed to go home first. I was home but hiding in my room. I didn't and still don't handle confrontation or delivery of bad news very well. After some hemming and hawing, he finally told my mom to tell him what was going on. She uttered the heartbreaking words, and then the dam broke. I had only met Bobby Earl once when I was in 7th grade but was very impressed and interested in him. He was in the entertainment industry and worked as a costume designer/set designer. Anyway, I heard Bobby break down, sobbing, weeping, mourning for his baby boy. Bobby Earl was 44 I believe when he died, but of course, as a parent, age doesn't matter. Your babies are always your babies. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I went into the living room and hugged him and cried along with him. He kept repeating, "I never wanted to go through this again." (referring to losing his wife Sarah) I felt so heartbroken and helpless for him. He lost his son, whom he didn't get to see very often due to the geographical distance, and now he wouldn't even get to say goodbye to him in person. His family did have a private memorial service in his old home, which at the time his youngest son had bought from him. I'm glad they were able to gather for Bobby Earl's Celebration of Life service and spend that time together.
Bobby's health wasn't the greatest. In fact, before he met my mom, he had already had two heart attacks. There were a lot of hospital visits and stays to get fluid off of him. I remember one time when he was in the hospital in Tyler, there were a few of us in his room when all of a sudden, his heart rate jumped to over 300 bpm. It scared me so badly, I panicked. I grabbed my purse and ran. If he was dying, I didn't want to witness it. The doctors were able to stabilize him, but I'll never forget that. He had bypass surgery in April of 1990. Shortly afterward, he had a stroke while still in the hospital. He recovered from that and also had a defibrillator installed so if his heart got to beating too fast or out of rhythm, the device would give him a shock to get it back on track. I think he had one of the first types of defibrillators they started with because it was one of the huge ones that stuck out of his belly and was very noticeable. That spring he was in the hospital for like two months before coming home as he had to have physical and speech therapy. Once he was home, I was nervous to be alone with him in case something went wrong. He had been through so much, and so had Mom. She pretty much took a leave of absence from her job and stayed with him. His son Terry and I would go visit on the weekends and take her the mail and clean clothes and being back the dirty ones for me to wash. She stayed right at the hospital with him. One summer afternoon while I was on summer break from college, he was lying down in their bedroom. I walked into the room and saw his back was to me. I hesitated to go any farther in case...in case he was dead. To my surprise, he was awake and spoke to me. He must have sensed my hesitation because he said, "I'm ok." I went over to the bed and talked to him about his experience in the hospital. He said he didn't remember a lot of it. I guess that's a blessing in a way because I remembered a lot. I was scared and sad. I knew he was sick but didn't want to lose him. Bobby finally succumbed due to his heart disease right before Christmas 1990. I had seen him only a few days before that. We were hoping he'd be well enough to come home for Christmas, but it wasn't to be. When I left the last time I saw him, he told me he loved me. I told him I loved him. He told me to be safe on the drive back home, and if I couldn't be safe, at least be sanitary. LOL Go figure. The early morning, which was the morning he passed, I had gotten up to use the bathroom and felt groggy. My stomach hurt, and I felt like I was moving through a dream or some type of fog. It was weird. The next day my friend Tiffany (yes, the same Tiffany who talked me into letting him stay in our lives) called and said she was coming over because she needed to talk to me. I thought she was mad at me about something. Before she got there, I had walked next door to the 7-11 to get a hot dog and a Coke before going to work. As I was walking back down the sidewalk to my apartment, Tiffany met me, hugged me, and told me her Granny and a couple of our other friends were waiting inside. Then she lowered the boom. She had gotten a call from my family to please come get me and bring me home. The weather was bad in East Texas that winter with ice and sleet. They didn't want to tell me the news and have me be so upset I wreck in my little car so they asked Tiffany to bring me home in her 3/4 ton pickup. She told me Bobby had passed away, and I told her she was a lying bitch and started screaming at her and asking her how dare she tell me such a lie, etc. It was just the grief talking, and I'm so thankful she understood that. She helped me get packed. I called in to work and told them what happened. Then Tiffany and Lori took me home. We stopped along the way to eat a bite. I couldn't eat anything. Once we got to our apartment, my brother Bruce (now deceased) and his wife (Nanette-also deceased) had just arrived and pulled up behind us. Once we got out of our respective vehicles, he came up and hugged me. There were no words. Just tears and hugging. He knew how much Bobby meant to me. For the second time in my life, I had lost my daddy. I remember that night I slept on the fold out couch with my mom. For most of the night she cried silently and sometimes not so silently. Just the week before he passed, I had been home for my friend Amy's wedding. I told him that when I got married, I wanted him and my dad on either side of me to walk me down the aisle. He seemed really touched by that idea, and I could swear I saw a few tears brimming in his eyes. I kind of felt bad that I never called him "Daddy", though. I always called him by his name. If I spoke about him to my friends, I'd refer to him as my dad, but it wasn't until I passed by his coffin to say goodbye that I finally called him Daddy as I kissed his cold forehead and told him, "I love you, Daddy."
It was a hard time for all of us who loved Bobby. He was such a good man, a good husband, a good Papa Bobby or Big Daddy to his grandchildren, and a great daddy to me and his own children. His wide smile could light up a room. He never knew a stranger. Everywhere we went it seemed he ran into someone he knew. He was a kind, gentle, understanding man who came into our lives when we needed him the most. I remember, I kid you not, that one day before we ever knew of his existence, I was looking through the phone book, and I remember seeing his name. I swear on a stack of Bibles. I guess you could call it a God thing, but I believe it was. God put him in our lives for a reason, and I'm so thankful He did. To this day I miss Bobby so much. I remember when I had my daughter I told Mom that I wished Bobby could see her because she was so beautiful. Mom said, "He does see her, Honey, and he loves her." I also remember that night after we buried him, Bobby came to me in a dream. He was wearing the clothes we had buried him in. He was smiling, and he said not to worry about anything. Everything was going to be ok. My mom said she would dream about him like that from time to time, and he was always smiling. I believe he just wanted to let us know he was ok, and when it's our time, we'll be ok, too, and that he was watching over us. I know he was reunited with his beloved Sarah, and I'm happy he was. He loved her so much, and a love like that never dies. He shares his final resting place next to her.
He definitely was the dad that he didn't have to be. Can you imagine being 59 years old and taking on a new wife and her 11 year old daughter knowing the terrible teenage years were ahead??? I mean he must have really loved my mom (and me) to take on so much. I sometimes wonder how differently my life would have turned out if my dad had stayed married to my mom and hadn't left, or if God had not placed Bobby in our lives. I include a YouTube link of Brad Paisley's song He Didn't Have To Be because this song so reminds me of Bobby. The very first time I heard it I was in a motel in Nacogdoches on my way to my 10th year high school reunion. My kids were still small then. We had settled in for the night, and I was watching country music videos. This video came on, and I fell in love with this song. I may have shed a few tears as well. I've also included a couple of George Strait Christmas songs from the late 80s. Bobby loved both of these tunes, and every time I hear them, I see him tapping his feet or clapping his hands to the music.
I share this blog about him because I so wish his great-grandchildren and now great-great-grandchildren had had the chance to know him. I want them to know he was a gentle, sweet man. He loved to have a good time. He loved to smile. He loved to laugh. He loved to joke around and pull pranks. He was just a good man, a good person. He would have loved each and every one of them and would have been so proud of them. I can see him looking at all the newest members of his family and declaring, "That sure is a good-lookin' bunch of youngins! It's because they take after me." Or something like that HA! HA! He would have been as proud as a peacock for sure. Oh, and those ears??? Those are also known as the Horn ears because of him. LOL
Today, October 3, 2019, is his birthday. He would have been 97 years old today. He's been gone for almost 29 years. I think about him all the time. I miss him every day. I wish he was here so I could wish him a happy birthday in person and give him a hug. God had other plans, but He did give Bobby 68 years on Earth, and about 9 of those years, He shared him with me. I'm so blessed He did.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjO1F6oCab8-He Didn't Have To Be-Brad Paisley
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejh85Cnticc-When It's Christmastime in Texas-George Strait
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vu3SAEarO6M-Merry Christmas Strait To You-George Strait
