Sometimes, I pace around my house pouting about all of the things that are "wrong." I call my mother (God bless her) and she has to talk me off the ledge. I look at Eric with crocodile tears and "I just don't know what to do"s. I cry and I cry (awake and asleep) and I'm just plain ol' pitiful.
But there are some days that, despite the thousands of things I have to get done and the class I need to leave for in ten minutes, a John Michael Montgomery song (I love the way you love me) comes on the radio and I'm in a blissful sob for the next however-long I have until the next "to-do." And I think about my mother and father - two absolutely, polar opposite people who happened to fall wildly in love. And I don't think about how it didn't work. I don't think about the sad ending. I crop the story right where it should be cropped and I think about the incredible influences I have who taught me how to love.
My father loved my mother with a passion that was outrageous. He was the kind of guy who carried love on his face, smeared all over, buried deep in his laugh lines and crows feet. My mother loved more quietly, but just as deep. There was no question that she would walk through hell for him (and she did). I grew up watching my parents fight battles that warriors would run away from, and I watched them love each other along the way. They kissed, they hugged, they made playful jokes, they made eyes across the room, and they always, always said "I love you."
My father taught me how to love. He taught me to be spontaneous with my love, to show the world, and to wear it like a crown. He taught me that no one dislikes to be told how beautiful, how wonderful, and how special they are. And that it never hurts to write a song or two about them.
My mother taught me how to love. She taught me how to be faithful, to be loyal, and to mean every word that I ever say. She taught me how to never give up. She taught me how to love in a gentle way, to embrace the good over the bad.
So, their love story didn't end pleasantly. There may have been a bump (or one hundred) along the road. But I can honestly and completely say that they taught me how to love in a fun, healthy, and magnificent way.
Strong and wild, slow and easy, heart and soul, so completely.
...John Michael Montgomery may have contributed as well.
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Kate, I never met you, but everything you wrote about your dad is true. Tony was my bud from the moment we met in the early 1980s when the Brower Brothers came to our church for a revival and camp meeting. We remained friends later on when they used to play at the Holiday Inn here in Plant City. I even spent Thanksgiving 1983 with the family in Nashville. We stayed in touch off and on by phone over the years. I miss him terribly. He was an amazingly talented singer-songwriter-musician and a loving man with an ever-ready smile. I am proud to call him my friend. —Howard "Howie" Blount
ReplyDeleteP.S. Your mom was so sweet to add me as a facebook friend and help me catch up with the family news. I would love to someday be back in touch with your Uncle Eddie and Uncle Ricky, too.
Howard - it's great to hear from any old friend of my dad's. Thanks for writing me here!
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