For me, I think this honor goes to my wife.
I used to have a really crappy life up in Canada. I lived below the poverty line all my life. I was 37 years old and had never worked at a job longer than two years. I was homeless numerous times. I was on welfare. I had no possessions beyond the record collection that people kept stealing over the years. I used to be a musician, but all the equipment I ever owned was stolen. I could not even get an interview for the dozens of jobs per month for which you are required to apply when you’re on welfare. I had no romantic relationships. I had nothing in the bank. I lived in a tiny, cramped basement room next to the furnace, where all winter, my room was above 90 degrees. I started selling things through the ads section of a collectors’ newsletter that I subscribed to, and a young woman responded. She was in Mississippi, and she bought some of my items. We started to become friends by mail. Then my mom died, and I was at loose ends. Next, as improbable as it might sound, we started to fall in love, and she moved back to Florida. What to do? Well, there was the getting to know each other, longhand, in massive letters. But then what?
It turned out to be the most right thing for both of us. I worked temp jobs to get the money to come down here and meet her. Two years later, I visited for the last time and never went back. She had such faith in the person she saw, and could see what kind of man I would be if someone would just let me, that she married me. She let me start all over and prove that I could make something of my life. And I have. She cheerfully went through the immigration procedure with me, and supported me until my work permit came, nearly a year after I arrived. I had a job a couple of days later, and have not stopped working since.
Together, we’ve built up a comfortable life. I have the dream job I always wanted. We live in a house in the suburbs. We have toys and kitties. We have just about everything two people need to have no complaints about our lives. We don’t fight or argue about anything. There is no stress in our lives. I have become a regular guy! I own a lawn mower! You folks might think that’s extremely silly, but for most of my life I couldn’t possibly have afforded to buy one, or live anywhere that I needed one. As I say often to my lovely wife, “thank you for marrying me.”
Second honor goes to my best friend from childhood, who was a transport driver at the time when I was coming down here. He let me store everything I owned at his place. Then he arranged to get a delivery to Florida the week or our wedding, and he drove all my stuff down here from Canada, buried under a load of lumber. He was my best man. Thanks, Mark.
