I’ve noticed that when someone finds out I’m married to a touring musician, they are immediately fascinated and demand to know how we met.
Any time my husband heads out on the road again after being off for awhile, I find myself reminiscing about the days before we were even a couple. We were friends long before we ever started “dating” and our relationship grew while talking on the phone hours on end while he was out on the road. I saw a lot of this country through his descriptions, and when he leaves on the road I know I’ll once again see parts of this country through his words as we talk on the phone every night.
“We’re pros at this,” we both say when he heads out all over again.
Being married to a man on the road isn’t always easy, and even being “a pro” at the road life doesn’t mean you don’t have you moments you just want him home.
Often when someone asks me how we met, they ask with excitement and a glimmer of mischief in their eyes. I even had someone once ask me if I was a groupie. (Don’t ever — EVER — call the wife of a musician a groupie.) You can immediately see the person sees a musician… not a person. They see the excitement of the concert, not the travel days that surround that show. They see the lights and glimmer, not the family left behind keeping the everyday demands of life going.
How did y’all meet? Sure. We did happen to meet at a show. But that’s not the part that matters. The part that matters is that we fell in love after getting to know one another. We got married both knowing what “the life” would demand. And we both cherish and protect that life — through every tour and every day.