So like I said, Joey came from a family of ranchers in Montana. His mom (Patty), and dad (Joe), married right after high school (after Patty's best friend and her went back and forth with him a couple of times. Patty eventually won). They were eighteen.
Shawn, their first son, was born a year later. Fifteen months later, they had a daughter, Christy. And this is how they lived: traveling with the rodeo in the back of truck with a camper, selling Quick 50 Motor Oil to supplement their winnings. Joe rode bulls, Patty barrel raced.
Three years passed, and they had another little girl, Jennifer Rose.
Can you believe this???
They lived in a CAMPER. With THREE children. I mean, when did they take a BATH? and HOW?
Anyway, its a mindset that is foreign to me. So day-to-day, you know? I mean, what about insurance and college funds and owning a house and having a new car and occasionally getting your nails done? I'm speechless.
A couple more years go by and Patty is pregnant again. Joe has taken months off from an injury, but is finally ready to ride again. Patty is in the stands, her eight-month belly protruding in front of her like a gigantic egg.
Joe is riding Pow Wow, a bull who weighs more than a ton. Pow Wow bucks hard, his hind legs rearing into the air behind them. His head and shoulder's compensate, crashing into the dusty dirt as his large, curved horns lodge in and don't come out, throwing Joe over his shoulders onto the ground. The bull falls too, crushing and instantly killing his rider who was the exact size and stature of my husband, Joey. I saw a picture of Joe once in close fitting long underwear and was amazed at the exactness of his thighs and butt to Joey's.
More to come...