Well I'll tell ya...
I met Jerry Sweet in 1993 on his 50th birthday. He was a bartender at the favorite watering hole and I happened there because my two sisters lived in the town. They had a BIG BEAUTIFUL WOMAN stripper for him and if you knew him you'd know he was mortified.
He was this big burly fellow, tattooed, biker sort. But a big bear of a sort of smushy guy. I fell head over heals. Me the computer geek with this biker lovey muffin.
I moved from Kentucky and shortly Jerry and I were living together. In a trailer. I know I know all the trailer trash jokes. But I was the happiest girly in the whole born world. We lived in that trailer for 4 years. Some of the happiest of my life.
When Jerry's mom and dad died we bought the house he'd been raised in. Basically renovating it from bare walls. (there were 21 layers of wallpaper on the living/dining room walls!) And we lived happily there till the son of a bitch died. Damn Jerry Sweet and his suckiness.
But those 12 years, oh God those 12 years, we pored more memory making in those years than most ever have.
Jerry was from a lower middle class family, I am from a family where my parents died when I was 8 (father), 12 (mother), so not only lower middle class but let's say no class. But I made something of myself and so did he. Really he was probably born with that 'something'. That good, kind, gentle goodness. Anyway he was IT for me and I him I think.
I made pretty good money so we took road trips and ventured about Michigan and were all about each other. Which makes it so hard now I suppose because he's not here and the memories are starting to fade. Now you're making me cry, damned blog.
I'll write more about 'who Jerry Sweet Sucks' is later. Thanks for reading.