Jeff had been asking me to marry him since I moved from Southwest Ohio to New Jersey to live with him in 2009. Cue the Amy Winehouse Rehab song because for six years, I said “No, no, no.”
He teases me that I finally said yes in 2015 after receiving a notice from my health insurance provider that my premium was going up from ridiculous to absurd. I’ll admit that warmed me to the conversation a bit but having been hitched and unhitched two times before, “free” health insurance wasn’t a compelling enough reason to make that serious legal (and let’s face it, spiritual) commitment ever again.
Here’s why I finally said yes.
In October 2014, my mother had a massive stroke and my sister and I dropped everything (and I mean everything) and went to Cleveland to help. She was able to limp her business along until things stabilized but by the end of November, I’d lost mine.
Without hesitation or a word of protest, Jeff picked up all the slack. It was hard. We had no extra money. None. Nada. But somehow he made it work until I could spin up the bookwriting business and resume my contribution.
Jeff had my back, and he still does.
What does that mean, to have someone’s back? It’s a term that gained popularity in WWII. From Idiomic.com: “As buildings and other defensive positions were cleared by squads, the first soldier to enter would be reliant on others to protect him from the rear as he concentrated fully on what lay ahead of him.”
Hang on while I hook a right at this corner…
While I was growing up, Ma’s family was very close. Like walk in the door of your sibling’s house like it was your own and holler “Hello” kind of close. People would cook big pots of things and come over and drop containers off, or if you weren’t home, leave them in the refrigerator. (Spare key.) A lot of money was lent and some of it was paid back.
I remember one time we were visiting Ma’s folks and my Dad got t-boned at the intersection of State and W. Ridgewood in our Mercury station wagon (1972). Grampa Mel dug a package of “bacon” out of the freezer and loaned him the cash (about a grand as I remember) Dad needed to get the car fixed so we could drive back to Michigan!
A big reason for this hyper closeness was that Grampa Mel was a juvenile detective with the Cleveland police department and so without exception any outside friends (there weren’t many) were also law enforcement. Grampa was also known as one of the good guys, someone who you could trust in the field.
Ma’s people had each other’s backs, fronts, and sides for a long, long time. Some still do. But it’s not like it was.
Jeff has my back like it used to be. And knowing him as I do, I’m confident that’s the way it’ll always be. We’ve been together eleven years now, five years married as of today.
I’m so glad I said yes.
Happy Thanksgiving.