Brian

It's so difficult to know where to begin this particular story.  I have already typed and backspaced more than ever before.  I guess all great stories in history begin with 'Once upon a time'... so I suppose that's a start.

Once upon a time, when I was a young girl in high school, I was introduced to a boy... with the longest mullet I've ever seen.  That was socially acceptable back then, by the way.  His name?  Brian.  The second thing I noticed about Brian (the first being the mullet, of course) was his contagious smile.  He was hilarious, and I mean a real smart ass kind of hilarious (that, we had in common).  And a friendship began.

Over the years, we lost touch, got back in touch, stayed in touch, and considered each other best friends.  When Brian needed to talk, he called me.  When Brian wanted to vent, he called me.  When Brian needed a girl's point of view, he called me.  My husband would kid that he'd be jealous, if he didn't also know him well enough to understand that you can't know Brian and not love him.  When my phone rang, and his photo came up on my caller ID, my husband would say with a giggle, "I'll find something to do, because you're gonna be busy for two hours".  Brian could talk and talk and talk.  There was never a single conversation with Brian that I didn't laugh so hard it hurt.

When Brian and I went anywhere, he wanted to take his truck, but he never wanted to drive.  He always made me drive so he could fiddle with the radio and change cd's after one song.  He claimed to have an 'internal gps' so he'd give me random directions every few minutes, "hang a left here", or "at the next stop sign, turn right".  I can't tell you how many times I got lost following that internal gps of his!  We would laugh that a trip that should have taken 20 minutes would take two hours!  Looking back though, it was worth every single extra moment I was able to spend with him, listening to him sing Chris LeDoux.

We went to the lake together a lot over the last several years.  Brian would show up in a button up shirt, and cowboy boots.  No joke.  He got teased for that a lot.  There was one time that my niece was driving the boat, spinning circles, and he jumped out, just to make her think she threw him out!  Yeah, he jumped out with his jeans and boots on.  He said if he took them off, she'd know he planned it.  He later realized it probably wouldn't have hurt to take his keys out of his pocket with the key fob getting ruined and all... But my niece was horrified thinking she tossed him outta the boat.

Brian and I were close enough friends that when I asked him if I could borrow his four wheeler to take to Waynoka, he didn't even hesitate to say yes.  And even though I paced and paced when it came time to call and admit to him that I rolled it end over end down an eighty foot sand dune, and asked him if we could still be friends, his reply was "I'm sure that it will be awkward  between us for a while, and we'll slowly drift apart and eventually never speak to each other again.  So thanks for ruining a perfectly good friendship."  Of course, he followed with a "RELAX!  I never would have let you borrow it, if I didn't completely trust you."  Thankfully, the friendship continued!

When we planned our wedding, we talked about a very small intimate occasion with only immediate family.  My son, who was seven years old at the time asked who was coming.  I rattled off a few names.  He said, "and Brian"!!  I said "well, we were considering just having family at the wedding, then having all of our friends over for a big reception".  He had a confused look on his face when he replied "but Brian IS family?!"  In that moment, I knew he was right.  He was more than a friend.  He was family.  We decided that family wasn't just our biological relatives.  We had a big wedding after all, surrounded by our loved ones, whether related or not.

It is now with deep sadness that I write this tribute to Brian, as it is in his memory.  Brian meant a lot to me, and to this world.  He was an amazing man, a very devoted and loving father, and a compassionate friend.  When I refer to myself as the Dirt Road Diva, I can't help but think of Brian as my male counterpart in that area.  He was a dirt road country boy, that spent longer getting ready to go somewhere than most divas.  He will forever remain a part of my life, as my memories of him will never fade.

To those of you reading this, whether you knew Brian or not... I leave you with this: Never take one moment for granted.  If you care about someone, tell them.  Tell them often.

Brian, I love you.  You were my rock when I needed you.  I will cherish our time on this earth together for the rest of my days.  Peace out my friend.

The End...

DRD