Tuesday, December 9, 2008


Have you ever met someone and just known they're the one? That was the case for me back on the day before September 11, 2001. That's right; before all of the shit hit the fan, I had met (for the second time in my life - more to come on that) my future wife. Her mane of flowing red hair, her black Harley-Davidson t-shirt tight on her boobs, cut down the center to show off cleavage, and the remarkable smile she radiated throughout the entire place made her irresistible to me. She even commented to me later on in the evening while I was at the jukebox, "You know you're going to marry me"...she was right on with that prediction...

Rachel Beasley was some girl who I knew as one of my younger sister's friends in grade school. I picked on her like an older brother does to his sister's friends, and never thought twice about it. Her sister was a grade above me in elementary school, her mother taught me while I was in elementary school, and new her father as a basketball coach at that same elementary school. I grew up knowing her and her entire family.

Dating her and getting serious was easy. I knew I loved her within a week or so. I never told someone I loved them that fast after starting a relationship. Heck, I waited a whole month to have sex (which for me at the time was quite a feat)! All that aside, we just got along so well. We never fought; we thought along the same lines more often than not; heck, we would even make fun of the same people as we sat in the food court at the mall people watching. Her family was just as nice as I had remembered them. I got along with all of them; they made me feel so comfortable while dating their daughter.

S, after a couple months of dating, I asked her parents for her hand in marriage after our Thanksgiving meal in 2001, and in turn proposed to her in December shortly before Christmas that year. I had bought a ring she had stated she liked, and wasn't sure how to pop the question...then, on December 22nd, 2001, I had a good setup. She had a bad day. One of those days you just wished you stayed in bed all day. She cut a tire on the way to work, making her late (she worked at Quaker Steak and Lube in Sharon, PA). Work was bad; she had lots of jerks and low tippers coming to the restaurant. She told this to me on the verge of tears and I went and got her a card to cheer her up. Well it just so happened that her parents had a pewter stocking Christmas ornament that they had just bought, and as I was telling them about my plans later that night to propose to her, they gave me the ornament and said I should use it somehow. I saw I could put the ring inside the stocking. Well, here we go; card and first Christmas ornament. She would be happy at the end of the day no matter what. I get to the restaurant, ad it is packed but she is getting off soon. I go down to the bar to hang with a few of her friends who had already punched out, and of course I told them the plan and they went along with it. Rach comes down, sits next to me, and I get her a beer. She chugs half of it down in one gulp, hugs me and on the verge of tears says how happy she was I came to be with her. As she says that, I pass her the card and the stocking ornament. She opened the card and enjoyed it...and as she looked at the ornament, she sat there puzzled. I told her, "Look at it, babe"! She couldn't fighure it out for a few more minutes until, bam! Her eyes lit up, she opened the clasp, and wham! There's a nice fat engagement ring! I turn her around, got on a knee, and in front of over 100 patrons who by that point were all watching, asked her to marry me...of course, she said yes, and "The Lube" erupted with applause and champagne, etc, as we kissed and hugged and received congrats from all around us.

It was a great few months to start out what would be the love of a lifetime. Problems were so far out on the horizon that neither one of us saw what we would face in the years ahead. The thing is, the problem was already part of her body. It was something normally as benign as an odd hair, a little pimple, a light freckle, a harmless birthmark. It was a mole that had in her 24 years received many a dose of sunlight and even more UV rays from multiple visits to tanning beds. Rach was quite tan for our wedding. Little did she know that the appearance she enjoyed showing would put her into a fight for her life.

More to come...in the next few days.

Ladies and Gents...please be careful around those UV rays.


Alicia said...

This is one of the sweetest stories I've heard. I'm sorry it has such a sad ending.

I just read your introductory post on the ywbb and followed the link here.

Rick Possert Jr. said...

Alicia, Thank you so much. All of the writing in this blog comes straight from that beating muscle in my chest...BTW, I love the YWBB. I am so glad someone recommended it to me. Feel free to continue reading my blog; I have already perused yours and I must say it is well written as well. Gotta say one thing; the passing of your DH and my Rach have brought out something in us...I would say that is somewhat of a commonality between all of us YWs...