Millionaire

Once again, the YouTube algorithm brought me a song I’d never heard before. A song I know my late husband never heard, because he would have shared it with me.

I miss that. He’d send me new music to listen to almost every day. Or we’d sit in the backyard bar in the evenings and find incredible unknown artists singing amazing tunes. Our shared love of music was one of my favorite things. He listened to it all, all the time: rock, pop, country, punk, funk, grunge. He’d say “there’s beauty in all of it Kell, if you just listen close enough.”

This song reminds me how lucky I was. We weren’t ever rich in money. There were actually some pretty lean years. But we were always rich in love. Joe worked hard for everything he had. If he didn’t have the cash to buy something, then he’d tell himself he didn’t need it. He hated credit cards. He was a master at bartering. He’d trade for just about anything. He was also somewhat of a hoarder. His brother Jack would argue with my use of the word “somewhat”. But his stockpiling came in handy more than once, even since he’s been gone. I can’t tell you how many times I’d ask Joe to pick up something at the store and his reply was “wait, I may have that in the garage.” He was resourceful, frugal (okay, cheap), but he was always grateful for what he had. He worked for every last thing he owned and never wanted for more.

He was so content with his life just as it was. And so was I.

I can’t imagine someone else out there could ever make me as rich as I was with my Joe. The world is too full of people trying to keep up with the Jones’s (who are the Jones’s anyway?). But I’m hopeful.

I was the richest girl in the world for almost twenty-two years. Chris Stapleton was right. Even when my pockets were empty and my cupboard was bare, I was still a millionaire.

“Love is more precious than gold
It can’t be bought, no, and it can’t be sold
I got love enough to spare
That makes me a millionaire”