Thomas Rhett's uncle, Brooks Akins, coached our older son in football at the Boys Club level. The in-laws of another country legend, Kenny Rogers, live across the highway from us. My man was born in Ohio, not one you'd expect to be a country music fan, but being a transplant to the south it got in him.
Thomas Rhett's voice is the sound of the south, a drawl and a twang set to music. I fell in love with this song today, first time I heard it, and in the video is an old Chevy truck like my daddy drove, only Daddy's was red. (The wedding ring Mr. A wears was my daddy's.)
I read an article online about the good fortune of marrying a southern man. I've long teased my man about being a Yankee, but all that is desirable in a man entrenched in the culture beneath the gnat line osmosed to mine.
At dinner this evening, he looked at me with sheer happiness at my happiness while I was dancing at the dinner table to Thomas Rhett's song. I told him to hold that thought and he was patient with me while I recaptured his loving expression.
Twenty-eight years and counting. Our first grandchild is due early this fall and our baby boy is getting married this summer.
Love multiplies.
God is good.
