Robin and I have a very fond memory of a night and a morning that we spent at Joe Mike’s House. It was after Sue had passed away and he was staying in the house while her kids figured out what to do with it. Robin and had taken our first extended trip together. We had been down to Mississippi and across to Florida during the week of 4th of July. As they say, we had and were having an excellent time.
We wanted to stop and visit in Owensboro. We arrived there late, never thinking about it being hard to find a motel room. What we did not know was that the large hotel on the river had closed down, and all the other 
motels were full.
We decided to venture over to Uncle Mike’s even though it was close to one in the morning. Before I went and knocked on the door I got a bottle of rum out of trunk (remember we were on vacation) as a peace offering. I knocked on the door several times, each time progressively louder. I could not rouse anyone in the house. Remembering that the bedroom was at the side of the house I went to that window. I called Mike’s name a few times and finally heard a commotion in the bedroom. I went back onto the porch expecting a friendly greeting by my Uncle. Instead there was a wild man at the door with a baseball bat.
After our initial shocks, we greeted. We then sat on that sweet porch drinking rum and cokes until 2 or 3 in the morning. I am not sure what we talked about, probably our travels.
What makes this story special for us, besides the good time on the porch is what happened the next morning. Not having any other bed, Robin and I slept on a twin bed in the back bedroom. Even though we had been dating a few months I had never told her that I loved her. In telling someone that, it is a huge commitment and carries with it a tremendous responsibility. At least it should. I hugged her that next morning and said, “I’ve loved you for a while now, but I was afraid of the responsibility of that.” Or something to that effect.
I’ve been loving her quite a while now.