I Ain't Much But I'm All He's Got

My happy regards to each of you, my faithful readers!

Once again it is an honor to have you join me as I share my thoughts while living to the fullest up here in Misty Hollow in the foothills of Roan Mountain, Tennessee.

Sunshine and summer weather have crept across the dense forest floor, and we are finally flush with flora and fauna. Everywhere I look I see draperies of bright green. The various bird's nests in the nooks and crannies around both cabins are full of gaping hungry mouths.

My favorite wildlife right now is the turkey hens as they each strut proudly around the grounds with up to ten chicks stumbling, rolling then quickly recouping to hasten behind their moms. It won't be long before the does have their polka dotted fawns following their moms as she stealthily moves among the trees in high protective mode. Life here is so amazing my Tony, and I often hold hands and thank God for the privilege of living here.  

Now speaking of my main squeeze, have you guys noticed you have never seen a photo of him on this blog, and have rarely heard about him?  

Well, there's a reason. Tony is camera shy and has said, "Honey, I am so happy you love blogging, and I enjoy reading what you write.  But, you blog....I'll read and we'll leave it at that."

I wondered though if I could talk him into loosening up a bit. He and I were sitting down to a romantic dinner and, sensing he was in a mellow mood, I told him I would love to write a blog post about how he and I met.  

It really was our 'Pretty Woman' story, and I asked if he still remembered when the romantic comedy starring Richard Gere and Julia Roberts came out in 1990.  Did he remember how I cried several times throughout that movie? 

"Well, that is basically us, Tony, and our story begs to be told."  His retort? "Linda, you were not a hooker when we met, and I sure did not look like Richard Gere but if you want to write it, go ahead honey."  YES! "Smile, sweetheart, I need to take your picture."

So let's hitch our horses together and see if we can ride this one out.  When I think back and recall all that happened, I still find it difficult to believe myself.

The year was 1968, and I was a junior at Tennessee High School in Bristol, Tennessee. I had met and was 'running around' with a new friend named Brenda Nickels. I don't remember how we met nor why she chose to befriend me; we lived in entirely different worlds. 

I owned two pairs of shoes. Brenda's bedroom housed a custom built shoe closet showcasing enough leather to cover a large sofa and matching recliner. In all fairness, though, her parents did own Nettie Lee Shoes in downtown Bristol.

I lived in a two bedroom home on the wrong side of the tracks that managed to squeeze in my parents and five kids. Brenda, an only child, lived in a lovely, spacious home in a beautiful neighbor. Her parents were always so kind and accepting of me. It was evident they never seemed to care their daughter was friends with someone of much lesser means. 

Brenda had invited me to stop by her home one Sunday after church so I could run an errand with her. Sure. I was so impressed Brenda had her own nifty car, and we were able to hop in and take off at will. When we arrived at her cousin's, we were met in the living room by three men, all in a disheveled state of dress and looking pretty haggard. All were nursing what I learned later were Bloody Mary's.

That man's name was Tony. I thought he was obnoxious and could not wait to leave that house. I learned that day he was twenty-two years old and his two friends, Bruce Hawks and Raymond Siler, were both preparing to graduate from East Tennessee State University. Tony was already employed at Trammell Construction. 

I had no way of knowing then that Sunday would catapult me on the ride of a lifetime.  

Soon Brenda began to invite me to her home quite often. Tony always seemed to be there to visit his Aunt Juanita and Uncle Harry, Brenda's parents. He was flirty and teased me incessantly. I learned much later it had been confided to the Nickels' family he had a crush on me. 

Tony told them he had never met a girl quite like me....shy but sassy, innocent yet mature, and attractive while not seeming to realize it. He also later told me his Aunt Juanita wagged her finger in his face and told him if he so much as laid a finger on me she would "detach his gonads."  

Juanita and Harry were very fond of Tony and had cookouts and dinners for him and his friends Bruce and Raymond, me and anyone else who cared to drop by. They were such a lovely couple who delighted in entertaining while assuring all felt welcome at their table.

I could not help but note Tony was an incredibly sharp dresser. Every time I saw him, he looked like he had just stepped out of some men's fashion magazine. That was very intimidating to me. I shyly commented once on his dress and asked if he ordered his clothes. 

He laughed and told me he shopped at Blakley-Mitchell in Bristol and Soble's in Kingsport. Why he asked, do you like how I dress? I felt my face flush and, tweaking my cheek, he told me he thought the fine art of blushing was long lost.

My mom and dad were beginning to wonder why I was spending so much time at Brenda's all of a sudden. Who was at Brenda's house, my father wanted to know. Lying to them was something I'd never felt comfortable with, but all I could think to say with pounding heart was, "Brenda's little red-headed cousin will be there, but I am not sure who else."
                      
My conscious was eating me alive. I had grown to really care for Tony so after about a month of meeting at Brenda's I told him he had to come to my home and meet my parents. "Absolutely, I'd love to meet them. I did not want to push you, but I am more than ready". 

Seriously, I did not intend to be difficult, but he did need to be reminded  I was sixteen years old and he was twenty-two with a receding hairline and a bald spot on top of his head making him look at least thirty. He laughed.

"It will be okay, Linda. I promise."

I told my parents Tony from Brenda's had asked me out, but he wanted to come to the house to meet them first and get their approval.  I had at that point only dated one guy in my lifetime, and I had to be in by ten o'clock on school nights and eleven on weekends.  

The night Tony came to my home, that firm knock rapped, and my knees knocked as well as I opened the door. There he stood in a gorgeous suit that even more accentuated the fact he was a grown man.

I could hear my parents making their way from the den as Tony stood perfectly at ease in our small living room. It was surreal to see the looks on their faces as they stood there gaping when they saw him.

"So this is Brenda's little red-headed cousin?", my dad managed to gasp.

Within thirty minutes my parents thought my boyfriend was the most wonderful person in the world.  He was straightforward, we filled in the gaps of how we met, he told them about his employment at the offices of Trammell Construction and then shared his life plan. Tony thanked them for the time he had spent with me while letting my parents know the characteristics that drew him to me.  


Lastly, Tony assured them if allowed to date me he would always treat me with respect and take excellent care of me.  

Yes, my father said, Tony could date his daughter, but he must have her in that door by ten o'clock on school nights and eleven on weekends. I really wasn't sure what Dad would do to Tony if he failed to obey that order (though he did); that train seemed to have left the station once Dad told a twenty-two-year-old man he could date his daughter.

Three months from when I met him, I married my Tony on Saturday, January 25, 1969. Sixteen-year-old kids were not allowed to marry in the State of Tennessee, so our marriage license was obtained in Virginia with parental permission. My father refused to sign for me although he thought the world of Tony; he firmly believed I was too young to marry. 

My mother, ever the opportunist, saw a stable future for her daughter and did not hesitate to sign on the dotted line. My desire was to marry at Fellowship Chapel where I had attended church for years and had been a part of the youth group. Reverend Lester McKinnon who knew me well did the honors.

My wedding gown came from a small bridal boutique and cost $35, and my veil was borrowed. There were not that many people in attendance. Tony's entire family was there of course, and all were so kind and supportive. I had met them and agonized inwardly what they must think of Tony's choice of a wife. I was a skinny, long drink of water and pathetic piece of insecurity who wondered, too, what Tony saw in me.

My fiance's sister Peggy had married one of Kingsport, Tennessee's most prominent sons complete with a large, lovely wedding in Church Circle with the full compliment of bridal showers and teas. To me, though, my nuptials was simplistically beautiful. Our photos were taken with a Polaroid camera, and I still cherish them today.

Tony had picked Atlanta, Georgia for our honeymoon. I had no idea where to go as I'd hardly been anywhere. I had carefully washed and ironed my best outfits and laid them carefully in a suitcase. My smaller bag carried my underwear, my gown Mama had picked for my wedding night and my makeup bag and toiletries that I'd carried into the church for my sister to help with my makeup and hair.

We left immediately after the wedding in a rush to start our honeymoon. I ended up at our hotel that evening with the smaller bag, but the larger suitcase was still in the back of my parent's car. Humiliated, I burst into tears. Tony gathered me in his arms and told me he had a quick fix for that little problem, and I was not to worry. 

Here I am below on my wedding night...a woman child donned out in her chartreuse wedding gown with white daisy accents. I am playing with my Mr. Big Ears mouse and the Raggedy Ann doll my new husband bought me when I fell in love with them at a gas station coming across the mountains. 

Jeez, you can't make this stuff up.

I woke up the next morning realizing I was not in Kansas anymore. Tony was in the shower, so I quickly made up the bed, finishing just as he walked out of the bathroom. He smiled and gently told me I did not need to make up the bed every morning; maids would be coming in and cleaning the room. Once again I felt my face flush with embarrassment. How was I to have known that?

Tony told me the first day of our new life together would be awesome. We were going to downtown Atlanta to have lunch on Peachtree.  Arriving there was a breathtaking experience for me. 

I had never been in a metropolitan area before, and Tony had to hold my hand as we walked along or I would have fallen down while gaping up at the tall skyscrapers all around us.  

Peachtree was a long avenue with storefronts filled with incredible items beautifully displayed and designed to lure even the most discriminating buyer.  

Finally, we stopped in front of a luxurious clothing store. The Fashion Shop back in my hometown was considered our very finest.  I always nurtured a dream when a young child that someday I would walk in there and shop 'till my heart's content. Yet, even it paled in comparison to this stunning place before us.  

"Come on, we need to buy you some clothes, Mrs. Blevins."  Oh my gosh! First I was stunned to hear him call me by that name! It was the first time I'd heard myself called that! It sounded...well, strange to me; that was his mother's name. Next, I anguished realizing I had not been married to Tony a full twenty-four hours and I was already a financial burden to him.

I had on the same outfit I had worn to the church the day before with Mom and Dad, carrying my bridal gown.  Then I rode to Atlanta in it....it was all I had.  I felt very ill at ease beside my new husband as he was, as always, dressed perfectly.  This man I adored took my arm and walked me through the door of the clothing salon.  
It would be impossible to express how shy and overwhelmed I felt as two sales women headed our way. Asking if they could be of assistance, Tony said he was buying a wardrobe for his new bride; could they please help select what she wants. The slightly raised eyebrows and a quick scan of my body resulted in one question, "You look like you are about a size six, dear. Yes?" Mortified, I could not utter a word. 

Tony spied a grouping of chairs toward the back with a three-way mirror, so he decided he had better take charge.  "Ladies, let's all go back there. My wife and I will have a seat, and you can bring things for her to look at and then we can make some decisions."

And we did. The ladies were very gracious and helpful, and I felt like Cinderella.  Of the lovely things we bought that day one outfit was my favorite; it was a cream colored sailor dress with navy accents. While trying it on I had peeked at the price tag, and it said $100! I was shocked to the core! That one item was more than the cost of my entire wardrobe, including shoes, back home! 

I whispered, telling Tony I had decided against taking the sailor dress all the while wishing I had looked at the prices of the other things I had tried on. My husband asked why...he loved that dress on me. I asked him if he had noted how much it cost? He laughed and gave me a quick hug and told the sales ladies to wrap everything up.

Years later as I watched the scene in Pretty Woman and the character Vivian walked into that exclusive clothing boutique with money Edward had given her to buy some things, my heart ached for her knowing how she must have felt. 

I can't help but believe if Tony had not been with me that day and I had been alone, those ladies would not have been remotely interested in waiting on me. An ugly truth, but reality can be such at times.                         

The rest of our honeymoon was spent doing things that left me breathless one moment or feeling way out of my league the next. 

Going to my first nightclub caused me to come unglued. Tony took me to a famous club called The Sans Souci Lounge. Right off the bat, I was sure my being there was breaking the law and firmly told my husband as much.  

After we had been seated, the waiter came and asked for our drink order. I was just preparing to tell him I was sixteen and not old enough to drink when Tony ordered himself a bourbon and water and me some fruity drink with a darling little umbrella.   

I then informed my ignorant husband there were probably people somewhere around watching for illegal activity and they would spot me and arrest me for underage drinking!  That man of mine just roared with laughter and told me to calm down....my being married changed everything. I could legally have cocktails with him, so that was the end of that.  

A couple of days later we visited a place called Underground Atlanta- the city beneath the streets- that had just opened that year. It was another world revealed to me, especially when we saw a beautiful, scantily clad woman with a tiger on a leash stroll by not three feet from us. 

My personal favorite on our honeymoon?  

Our visit to Grant Park Zoo which housed a black bear, jaguar, a hyena, a gazelle, a Mexican hog, lionesses, monkeys, and two camels.  Most of all this outdoor trip allowed me the opportunity to wear my new sailor dress and matching handbag and shoes and suede coat with fur collar. Seeing I was dressing totally inappropriate for the zoo, my precious husband told me long afterward he put on a suit that day so as not to embarrass his slightly off-key, wacky wife.  

On the drive back to Bristol, reality hit and real life together stretched before us. Tony felt the need to discuss some critical issues with me.  First, he told me it would be foolhardy for us to become parents until we enjoyed several years of marriage to mature in our relationship, travel, and focus on saving for our future.  

Tony said he would like for me to contact a GYN-OB (What's that, I asked?) when we get home and get on birth control pills.  Next, I needed to withdraw from Tennessee High School as he said he had been looking at a place on the river in Bluff City for us to lease for a while.  Oh my goodness, I thought.  I hated leaving the school system I had grown up in since I started at Central Elementary in first grade. I realized then I would be starting my second semester of my junior year at East High School.  

He also wanted me to know "WAIT!  STOP THE CAR!!"  During our short courtship, 'our' song, When a Man Loves a Woman by Percy Sledge came on, wherever we were, and whatever we were doing, I wanted to stop and slow dance.  My sweet guy agreed to my lovesick teenage request, so we had danced in restaurants and on street sidewalks with the car radio blaring.  Now we were driving across Sam's Gap, so he was pulling over for us to hold each other close to 'our song.'  

Back in the car, my Tony also wanted me to know how much he loved me, what an awesome time he had on our honeymoon and how excited he was about our future. I told him I had never been happier in my life.
                          
We did move to that charming little place on the Bluff City river and life there was so precious. My other half would rush in from work, grab us a couple of fishing rods and we would step down to water's edge; that is where I learned to fish.

Transitioning into the East High School family as a married 'woman' was easy. Staff members were very kind, and the other students quite friendly. I got my driver's license, Tony bought me my first car, gave me one dollar a day for lunch and I felt like the most blessed and cared for wife in the whole wide world.

For the first time in my young life, I never felt hungry. East High had been built a year prior and boasted the most amazing cafeteria imaginable. I would get my tray, and for that dollar, I could load up with a large serving of meat, several vegetables, rolls, a dessert, and milk! Slowly, ever so slowly, my thin frame began to fill out along with my self-esteem.
                            
In the meantime, I was introduced to the Trammell Construction family. I was still quite shy and intimidated at the smallest of things and meeting that group Tony worked with daily was no small thing. 

First, there was Mack Trammell and his gracious and beautiful wife, Frankie. Then came Dewey Pendley and his vivacious Nancy, a real go-getter who did not seem to understand the words 'no' or 'it can't be done.' Don Moneyhun was the financial guru of the firm, and he was married to the lovely and gentle Betty. These three couples embraced this young bride from the get-go as if I had always been a part of their group. Obviously, if Tony loved me then so would they.

Frankie, Nancy and Betty, and their husbands were all at the very top of Bristol's social structure. These precious women took me under their wings as if I was their personal pet project. All I could feel was intense gratitude they were determined to turn this sow's ear into a silk purse. I frantically felt the need to feel more secure about not embarrassing them.

My incredible life with Tony was filled with so much joy and excitement yet simultaneously exposed to twists and turns I never knew were possible for someone like me. The summer between my junior and senior year of high school was like a dream as I languished poolside at the Howard Johnson's Motel, owned by Mack Trammell. 

Mr. Trammell contacted Howard Smith, his hotel manager, and told him to permanently secure the room nearest the pool so Linda, Tony's wife, could enjoy the pool and have a place to change or relax in. Also, my meals at the restaurant were to be complimentary. Can you imagine how this touched and overwhelmed me?

A few months after that Tony and I were asked by Mack if we would like to move-gratis-into a darling home he owned in Blue Ridge Subdivision in Bristol. Mack let it be known he believed in my Tony and saw a bright future for him in his chosen field. That was not surprising to me; printed under Tony's senior photo in his high school yearbook was his stated dream...To own my own construction company. 

We enjoyed living there and from there bought a newly constructed Spanish-style home in Mount Area Estates. Then came the purchase and move to a lovely new home in Lowry Hills in Bristol, Virginia (where we had out first child, Tara) and finally to the stately Georgian Court on Shirley Drive...the home we lived in for the next twenty-three years while rearing our children. 

Please note the timeframe from the move into the Trammell home in Blue Ridge to the move on Shirley Drive was a little over seven years! My husband did not mind buying and selling...as long as he turned a profit; finding the perfect permanent home for us to rear children was paramount! Shirley Drive was that home in a neighborhood with great parents with lots of nice kids who all grew up with ours.

My senior year of high school was definitely out of the norm. I was doing very well academically, but when it was necessary for me to miss a day or two from school with my husband, I still did so with a nervous stomach.  I remember like it was yesterday carrying excuse notes written by Tony for my needed absences and handing them to my principal, Kenneth Carrier.  

"Mr. Carrier, please excuse Linda for being absent this past Thursday and Friday. We flew to Hilton Head for a business associate's wedding. Thank you for your kind understanding."

"Mr. Carrier, please excuse Linda for being absent Monday and Tuesday. She needed to travel with me on a business trip. We appreciate your patience with us."

When reading these notes, Mr. Carrier would laugh nervously. I could tell he was not sure just exactly how to handle my situation, but he always excused me.

Tony and I kept our personal commitment to not start a family prematurely. Our firstborn, Tara Lane, was born in May 1975, our Amanda Leigh, September 1978. Lane Hunter, our first son, was born March 25, 1982, and our last dumpling, Ethan Nathaniel, came exactly three years later on March 25, 1985.

And remember that guy named Bruce Hawks who was with Tony that first day I met him? They were then and have remained best friends throughout all these years. Bruce graduated with a degree in accounting and Tony's dream of owning his own construction company meshed together, and twenty years ago with his co-owner Bruce managing the financial end T & B Contractors, Inc. was established and is a thriving business today. Their expertise is in building water and wastewater treatment plants.
                       
It has been said 'When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.' As a sixteen-year-old kid, I did not understand that. On this side of our love, I fully grasp it now.

I do hope you enjoyed reading about the joys, insecurities, delights and trials of this child bride who married a real man (not a lot of 'em left anymore) so long ago. 

My Tony and I were able to carry off a relationship such as ours due solely to the wisdom, maturity and fully committed love of this man I married and the fact this was nearly fifty years ago. It goes without saying Tony and I certainly do not condone relationships like ours in today's modern culture.

I love him today with a love so profound and rich and vibrant that oft times it overwhelms me. To avoid confusion, when I started this blog post I was back at our cabin in Misty Hollow, but Tony and I left for Hilton Head, so the following video was obviously not taken on our mountain.

Now, I am so proud to introduce you to this incredible but still shy, man I adore...

Ye Gads, My Doctor Found a Snake in My Body!

A hearty hello to each of you, my dear friends.

I welcome you again to the serving up of my words; I am greatly honored you are here. I hope you are able to find something that whets your appetite as you graze from my table.

I’ve grabbed a cup of coffee and pulled a rocker close to the fire to knock off the chill. You guys get comfortable wherever you may find yourself on the web worldwide. I have learned from my Blog Meister I am getting hits on my blog from Asia, Africa, and South America, as well as several countries in Europe. 

She is not sure if this is from people reading or landing there by accident, probably some of both she said. Regardless, bless each and every one of you for joining me.

Now, if you’re settled in I am going to tell you a tale, and I’m tellin’ you right up front I’m not proud of what I’m goin’ to share. You will learn how I, your (now) humbled correspondent, can be a low-down, pathetic, self-absorbed, whining and disgusting cup of pond scum on occasion.

                                  
                                        **********
So let’s back up seven months when this whole darn mess began.

I had left Misty Hollow to spend the night down in town with my sister, Debby. I opened my eyes the next morning anticipating a fun day of shopping and stopping by our favorite eatery.

I placed my feet on the floor and stood to rise and found my body bent over at the waist, unable to rise further. I stood stuck there wavering, as thunderbolts of pain struck the right side of my lower back. Howling like a banshee, my sister heard my agony and came running from her bedroom, shaken from a deep sleep.

HELP ME! HELP ME!", I hollered. Debbie, also my best friend, came running to my side and, after seeing my contorted body, leaped into action. 

First, she urged me to lie back down on the bed. "NO! NO!" I actually thought if I did lie flat, my legs would stick straight up in the air and the pain would be even more excruciating. I was reassured not and, as always, Debbie was right.

An icy compress slid under my back, and two anti-inflammatory aspirin were dispensed in short order. Deb was telling me she had experienced something akin to this herself and it could be what her doctor called sciatica, a malady usually caused when a herniated disk or bone spur in the spine presses on the sciatic nerve.

                                   **********

Well, that infamous day eventually took me over the next several months from swinging my world by the tail to my tail finally dragging me around like an old broken down virago. Chronic pain has a way of doing that to a human being, as many of you may know.

My life continued to stumble on. The pain was consistently low grade but sharp pains presented with seemingly simple twists of my body; time refused to be my friend though as the situation began getting worse. I eventually found myself altering my actions and walk to adjust to and even avoid the pain, and I was rewarded with a huge corn on my right foot that had to be treated daily.

I dug my heels in though and began dealing with the problem by constantly rotating self-remedies of four 500 milligrams of Extra-Strength Tylenol a lick (is my liver still alive, I would wonder) to spending copious amounts of time in our 104-degree hot tub outside.  

After eating through jars of Blue-Emu, I found myself also applying those huge Icy Hot Patches...the gift that kept on giving...then taking thin layers of skin as I would rip them off; peeling them off slowly prolonged the agony.

Also, an unused prescription of heavy duty pain pills barely used from surgery last year became a life saver. I would take one when absolutely essential. Easter Sunday up here at Bear Cabin as we entertained 30 + guests was an incredibly awesome but two pills kinda day.

                                 
                                           *********

But ya know what bothered me most, guys? The not-so-subtle changes in my temperament and personality as I began to lose hope of the pain going away. I was becoming bitter and angrier at my lot in life. The things I had once enjoyed so much began to fall by the wayside. I no longer enjoyed card games with my Tony and keeping up with my buds on Facebook became a low priority. Having the grandkids up for the weekend was too daunting and the upcoming family vacation, a favorite time of my year, was dreaded.

I tried to hide it when talking with the kids and grandkids, but my dear husband was getting the brunt of my malady. Daily we would hold hands, and this man of mine would plead with God to please help me with my back situation. Our Father was listening to his every word, believe me.

He was only waiting for me to hear Him.

                                       
                                            **********

After nearly six months into the vice grip, Tony began to go to a chiropractor in Bristol for some problems he was having. I was too self-absorbed to be much help to him. After his fourth adjustment, he began to report impressive results. Not only did a flare up of lower back pain from a 45-year-old former back surgery retreat but his chronic sinus problems cleared up as well.

Then is when I finally decided to secure this miracle worker's manipulations for myself. I was way beyond the point I could adequately care for my Tennessee Walker, Trig. I was selfishly leaving the evening feedings and stall mucking to Tony.

I called Tony's chiropractor.

                                  
                                            ***********

The day of that chiropractic appointment came, and I walked back to the good doctor's examination room when called. When he entered the room, I stood up and stuck my finger in his chest. With a big grin, I said with much gusto, "I have great news for you, my friend. I am a simple woman with a simple problem. I have sciatica on my right side because that is where my pain is radiating, and I have done my research. You should be able to give me four adjustments then I will be out of your hair and hands!" He broke out laughing, and I knew then we were going to have a great patient/doc relationship.

"You know,” he said, “you could be right on the money, but you do realize as a new patient I need to do a basic X-ray workup?"

He did and then asked me to step in for the review. As he was hanging my films on the back-lit wall, he was informing me sciatica was not my problem. As I stared at what was before me, instead of seeing what I expected to see...a straight spine, I saw a lazy ‘S’ on that film.

                                      
                                            ***********

I remember blurting, "What the heck is that snake doing in my back?”

"Linda, did you not know you have scoliosis of the spine?”

"Uh, no."

"How in the world can you be sixty-three years old and not be aware of this? Did no one ever catch it?"

Then he asked, “Have you been in a serious car accident?" Not that a car wreck can cause scoliosis; he inquired for another reason.

In a nanosecond my mind flashed through the years of falls from my horses, breaking bones from the impacts.

I recalled my most recent crash several months prior when before Trig's morning feed he had wandered from his barn down to the front of the cabin where I sat on the front porch having coffee.

I was still in my jammies, but I grabbed a treat and ran down the cabin steps. Then I looked up at that big, broad, black back and got a wild hair. I figured a quick little bareback ride in the bottom pasture would be enjoyable for both of us.

Grasping a handful of mane, I managed to climb aboard his 16-hands height, and when settled, I gave the cues to turn him down the lane. Trig has always 'listened' to my legs, and he turned as I cued him up to a fast walk with the intentions of leading him into a slow canter.

It never happened.

Just about the time the canter cue was coming my Trig did an abrupt ninety degree left turn toward his water bucket. I immediately rolled over and off his right shoulder and hit the gravel road beneath, landing flat on my back.

The physical shock was overwhelming! My first thought? I have broken my back! My second? I am up here in the total privacy of all this acreage...by myself. I lay there stunned.

The next moment I opened my eyes to see my Trig's massive head hanging over me and then felt his tongue frantically licking my face. He has always been overwhelmingly protective of me (he has already attacked a donkey he thought was a threat to me and gone after a large dog as well.)

I could just hear him saying, "MOM, MOM, are you okay? I just wanted to suck up some liquid before we rode. My bad, my bad!"

The fact I was able to laugh at his sincere concern told me I was going to live, so I thanked God, scraped myself up and hobbled into the cabin. The next three days of agony assured me though I would never pull that stunt again.

                                      
                                              *********

"Nope, no car wrecks”, I replied.

"Well, it appears on your x-ray down here near the lumbar vertebrae there is a problem with two discs. My first recommendation Linda is you go to an orthopedic surgeon so they can take a better look at this and also establish a benchmark to monitor possible deterioration of your spine due to scoliosis .”

Knowing then an MRI had to be in my future, and a quick, easy fix at the chiropractor’s office was not to be, I burst into tears. Feeling like an idiot, I was embarrassed after I realized the folly of walking into that facility and thinking I would get a quick fix. Yet, I could not help but think of the coming summer and hikes and water balloon fights, boating on Lake Watauga and more in-depth study of the Cherokee Indians to culminate in a trip to see 'The Trail of Tears' in Cherokee, N.C. I needed to get a move on!

Unfortunately, I would discover this would not be the last death of a dream regarding this mess I found myself in.

                                  
                                             *********

Once the appointment with the orthopedic surgeon was scheduled, I had a month to wait and agonize and grow more petulant. The pain had begun radiating across my entire lower back. DANG IT!

Finally, the big day came, and I must say I was both excited and anxious to make that 10:00 a.m. appointment. My Tony went with me, and when we were called back, I believed this was finally the beginning of the end to my anguish.

The surgeon’s associate pulled his chair close to mine- almost knees-to-knees and he looked intently in my face and asked, "Why are you here?"

Attesting to my cracked nerves, I wanted to reach out and smite his face. 

My mind screamed WHAT THE HECK DO YOU MEAN WHY AM I HERE? I HAVE ALREADY FILLED OUT AN ENTIRE TREE LIMB OF PAPERWORK DESCRIBING IN DETAIL WHY, YOU NITWIT! I AM ONE HAIRLINE CRACK FROM BECOMING TOTALLY FISSURED, SO WHY ARE YOU STRESSING ME FURTHER BY ASKING ME THAT?

He still continued staring at me so with every fiber of my being I, in a deadly hushed tone, replied, "I have been told by this office my MRI revealed I have a bulging disc.”

"Yes, a few," he corrected, "But go ahead and start at the beginning and tell me when this problem began and what you have done about it to date."

I became fixated on those words "yes, a few" so Tony helped me get my story out in a rational manner. Then swooping up his model of a human spine as if he was a virtuoso and that spine was his baby grand piano Doc began to glide his fingers up and down the ivory column of vertebrae, nerves, and discs, showcasing my offending problems.

I was grateful my husband was with me to help me absorb the information. All I retained from his refrain was my most aggravated bulging disc was between vertebrae 5 and 6, but I had other smaller bulging discs as well. Also, yes I did have scoliosis and spinal arthritis, and the arthritis was exacerbating the pain apart from the bulges.

And then I heard this crazed man say that surgery was out of the question.

Stricken, I felt a wave of shock followed by a stab of disbelief.

This highly skilled professional indeed could not jerk the snake from my body; he did not, however, have the nerve to veto my second quick fix.

                                      
                                            *********

I had already envisioned this brilliant wielder of the knife, feeling sad for me, telling me my major bulging disc had bothered me long enough, so he was going to put me out of my misery. He was going to perform laser surgery. 

First thing in the morning he would be admitting me to Bristol Regional, cutting a one-inch slit in my lumbar region, repairing the disc that was causing me the immense pain and then placing the Band-Aid on... just like they did in the Laser Spine Institute commercials on TV. Then he could do whatever to the other smaller problems and I could be discharged later that day.

                                 
                                           *********

Crushed and believing this simpleton had not grasped something had to be done to help me I, angrily, cut loose!  

I felt compelled to educate him in the hopes a quick laser surgery would be put back on the table.

"Please listen to me Sir," I wailed. “You don’t know anything about me and the lifestyle I have always lived." 

"You do not realize how active I have been my whole life, do you? I have snow skied, and water skied and still own a horse I ride at full gallop. I was solo camping well into my fifties. I traveled to Hawaii by myself when I was fifty-three and rented a motorcycle and rode up into the mouth of a volcano and parasailed. Not into the volcano but from the back of a boat."

That simpleton just sat there staring at me. I did not dare look over at Tony.

Taking in another deep breath, I blathered on.

"Also, in my early fifties, I picked up racquetball for an hour, five mornings a week at 5:00 a.m. at the Wellness Center. How many women do you know who were that active in their fifties?"

"Are you aware I was fifty-three and started training on my bike ten miles every morning, seven days a week, including climbing up sides of mountains? No, you're not. I rode in bike marathons and hid a grin as I passed young guys more than half my age."

This doctor did not stop staring at me, with eyes slightly wider by this time.

"I also started golfing in my fifties and am still taking week-long golfing trips every year. I so need to be able to continue that! Help me do that!" 

Feeling a little light headed but unable to regain control I let it be known then I had taken up the sport of kayaking when I was fifty-three and would speed stroke daily up and down Lake Watauga, always trying to beat my personal best. My kayak was waiting for me at the lake! 

Finally, out of desperation and for good measure I blurted out I had also had natural childbirth with my children, and I knew what pain was!  I stopped. Exhausted.

                                 
                                          **********

By this point, I felt like a deranged fool. The knees-to-knees contact now was almost unbearable as the looming face of that man confirmed what I felt. 

In my zeal to make him realize my back problem was emotionally paralyzing me, he was, I'm sure, mulling over an additional referral to a psychiatrist. 

Apparently, my rant did not impress or move his dial one iota. 

He, never taking his eyes off me, stood up and said, “Well you are no longer in your fifties, Linda; you are sixty-three now.”

BAM!

He then told me he would be having a consultation with his colleague and left the room. 

I then looked over at Tony who sat there staring straight ahead.

Soon the neurosurgeon returned. He started with a pep talk, then handed me a regimen of steroids, a prescription for arthritis pills, a booklet of back exercises and a follow-up appointment. Then he summarily dismissed me.

With a tear-streaked face, I left that office, completely defeated. As we walked back to our car, I, finally broken, uttered, “Tony, I am going to have to let this go and let God.”

EUREKA! That 'God moment' hit me like a lightning bolt.

I realized right then right there is where God had been trying to gently get me for months. I had finally reached that simple but oh, so profound truth. For months I had struggled, whined, complained and grown bitter over my situation.

                           
                                         **********

Ya see, a dear friend of mine, and I had been chatting back and forth over a grievous situation she was anguishing over in her life. All I knew to do was keep telling her she needed to ‘let go and let God.' We both, years ago, had learned the Biblical Scriptures that simple phrase was anchored upon and we knew the power and release it offered God's kids.

Alas, what a hypocrite I had been.

The whole time I was sharing with my friend, I was not ‘letting go and letting God’ when it came to my own physical problems. I had made a conscious decision months before I could handle it myself. Sadly, I could sure preach but not breach that invaluable truth myself.

As it is in our relationship and fellowship with our Heavenly Father, He will respect our free will even if it means He has to wait patiently for us to reach the point when carrying our own burdens overwhelms us. When we finally reach the end of our rope and turn our cares over to Him, He is ever ready to take our load on His own precious back.

Once I laid down my ‘self’ and turned it over to my Poppa God, it has been amazing the turn I have made physically, spiritually and emotionally. The steroids the doctor put me on began to produce positive effects within the first few days as the inflammation and pain of the bulging discs began to recede. That, working in tandem with the arthritic medication, has been miraculous. An inversion machine provided by my sister is significantly strengthening and stretching my lower back muscles and spine.

             

I anticipate being back on Trig in a few weeks. Savannah, Ryleigh, and Emmett are already on the schedule to come spend time with their Nana and Papaw up here in the shadows of the Roan, and I cannot wait for the family vacation coming up. 

Hope springs eternal now, and I have a new spring in my step.

God bless you my friends for spending this time with me, and I thank each of you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck for dining with me today.