🕺 Dancing with Gary: A Look Back

I’ve got a lot of friends and family who know what my life looked like back in my twenties and early thirties. But this story isn’t really for them. It’s for the ones who don’t know that version of me. And it’s especially for my grandkids—those who never got the chance to meet this particular grandfather.

Gary.

If you ever watched Happy Days, you’ve already got a good picture in your head. Honestly, I’m half convinced the Fonz was written about him. Gary had the slick hair, the swagger, and that devil-may-care grin that got him into and out of just about everything. He would’ve made a great TV character—especially the kind who lives on the wild side and somehow still gets invited to dinner.

When I met him, Gary was 29 and already claiming he was headed for old age. I was just a teenager. He liked to joke about robbing the cradle, and well… he wasn’t wrong.

I was twenty when Gary and I got married—already pregnant with our first and barely out of girlhood myself. Looking back now, through grandmother eyes, I can’t help but marvel at how young I really was. Evan and Mea are that same age now, standing at the edge of adulthood. When I was David’s age, I had two little ones and a third on the way.

I was a baby… raising a baby.

🥃 The Party Years

Gary was a partier. We all were back then. That’s where things got complicated.

Booze is the devil’s sword. And now that I’ve quit drinking, I can say that with full confidence. Some people can have one drink and be done for the night. Not us. If there was a bottle on the table, you could bet we’d have it empty before the night was over. The boys would go through a fifth of whiskey while Dorothy and I polished off a fifth of gin.

Gary and his buddy Tom Butterfield were the life of the party—always dancing, always laughing, always just one sip away from turning the living room into a honky-tonk dance floor. They’d twirl around like a couple of oversized teenagers, shaking their hips and making Elvis proud. Dorothy and I were usually the ones trying to keep them from knocking over lamps or sliding into the coffee table.

It was loud. It was messy. But it was ours—chaotic, combustible, and somehow still full of love.

💃 How We Met: A Two-Step into Trouble

You want to know how it all started? With a dance. Of course.

My brother Dennis had found himself a girlfriend named Char—Gary’s niece, a barmaid he met on one of his classic Eureka adventures. One weekend, Dennis brought Char up to meet the parents. As we ate dinner, I  asked if I could go back down to Eureka with them. Char turned to Dennis and said, “If Chuck doesn’t want to go out with her, maybe Gary will.”

Now, I couldn’t tell you why Chuck never asked me to dance. But Gary did.

And just like that, one song turned into a whole lifetime.

🎶 Twelve Years of Fighting and Dancing

We spent nearly 13 years together—fighting and dancing. Usually both on the same night.

Gary never really grew up. I did.

I don’t think we would’ve stayed married if he had lived. I was moving forward, and he was still spinning in place. But he always said he wouldn’t make it to 40. And sure enough, he didn’t. He died that June—his 41st birthday would’ve been in October.

That’s when I started to believe in the power of our own thoughts. If you speak something often enough, it takes root.

🌱 The Lessons Left Behind

Gary was a great guy. Everybody loved him, and they had good reason to. He had a laugh that filled the room and a heart that somehow stayed wide open, even when life tried to close it.

I still wonder what might’ve happened if he’d lived. But I’ve learned something in my old age: you can’t change the past. You can only take the mistakes, learn the lesson, and do better going forward. That’s what turns it into growth. Otherwise, you’re just dragging the same old pain into a new season.

It’s been 37 years since Gary died. I’ve made a few more missteps since then, but when the music from the '70s plays, or Elvis comes on, I can’t help myself.

I still dance.

☁️ Wanda-ism:

“Life spins you ’round, and sometimes you trip—but if the music’s good, you get back up and dance anyway.”

🪑 Pull up a chair. I’ve got a story.