The Phoenix Has Landed - Audio, 30 mins.

“Cindi, why are you writing and publishing these stories?”

Here’s why:

While you live, all you have is air and stories. When the air is gone, your clothes, your car, the house, your job, your ego, and you, will all disappear, eventually. 

The only thing left is the stories that people will tell about you, if they remember. I’d like it if people remembered me and my family and friends, and most especially, Laura, after I’m done here. 

So for me, the best way to do this is to write my stories and publish them every two weeks, without any requirements for you, and without any restraints on me. Until, I can’t.

I’ve been writing my stories for a long time, and for the most part, it’s been so therapeutic, so helpful, but I just learned something: rewriting stories from the past can bring about a despondency and heaviness that’s just too much to bear, for too long.

When I tried to finish the last story about what happened with my boyfriend when I was twelve and what my Dad did about it, I became so heavyhearted, so anguished. My self-proclaimed nickname of “the joymonger”, petered out. Then disappeared. 

I CAN’T STAND THAT FEELING! I CAN'T STAND IT AND I'M NOT GOING TO WASTE A WHOLE BUNCH OF MY TIME FEELING THAT WAY. So I know two things: the only person responsible for my attitude is me, and I need to take immediate action to change it up, fast.

First, I take steps to recognize how sucky I feel. I speak it out loud, like “I feel like shit and this sucks and I’m not gonna take it anymore!” Then, I pragmatically engage in a plan to reverse out of my funk. 

Here are some of the ways I do this: I drink to excess, I romance my husband and engage in passionate delights, I go to Edgemere Church and celebrate the hell out of my version of the Holy Spirit, I listen to extremely loud music in my car by Aerosmith, Molly Hatchet, Bruno Mars, Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga, I call my best friend Jeannie and cry and crab and pitch a big one and she listens to me and then makes me laugh, and then, I quit doing what I’m doing that makes me so funkified in the first place. Because nothing changes if nothing changes. (not my quote but I like it) And that includes taking decisive action to de-funk myself.

So yes, I will finish and publish how the series, “The Pig and the Princess, mostly the pig” ends. But not today.

I started writing my stories when I was 18, and revisiting all that writing occasionally reveals a story that I forgot I wrote, a piece that just lights up my heart, eviscerates my sorrow, and brings me JOY! Pure, 100% unadulterated JOY! That’s what I found yesterday, and that’s what I bring to you today, April 1st, 2026; a joy-filled story that just happens to  be about my husband, and today is his birthday!

The following was written two weeks and two days before I married my husband, Gordon Wiley. A little preface: My husband of almost 30 years, Ray Manns, and Gordon were best friends until Gordon moved away in the mid 90’s. Ray died May 31st, 2009 from sudden cardiac arrest. In November of that year, Gordon and I dated for 17 days and then got married on Thanksgiving Day, after only 17 days of dating, and just six months after Ray died. 

So here goes, read exactly as it was written 16 years ago.

I hope this brings you joy, too. 

November 12, 2009

I just have to write about this; I don’t ever ever want to forget it, I want to feel this forever, I want to cherish want is happening to me the same way I cherish my relationship with God. I want to work at it every day. 

It’s about Gordon. Gordon, Gordon, Gordon, just the sound of his name makes me shiver, makes my heart start racing like a piston in a 454. It’s so hard to write about Gordon because my hands are shaking and I keep missing the keys on the keyboard. Oh me, oh my Gordon.

Gordon is the only one who came around when Ray died. Everyone else hid. They didn’t call, come over, send a note. But Gordon came up about every week to ten days and made sure I was OK, asked if he could do anything for me, talk a minute about Ray, and leave in less than 5 minutes. I was so grateful for that. But I never imagined anything would ever happen between me and Gordon. He was unkempt. 

I remember shortly after Ray died I stopped over at his house in Port and said hi to him. His place is a pit. Afterall, he is single, and has not been with another woman in a long term relationship for quite some time. So who cares? He didn’t. 

I remember looking at him, looking past his facial hairiness, looking into him, looking at his face, his outer being and thinking “this guy draws me in and turns me off at the same time”. He is manly, tall, respectful, full of good manners, always so pleasant and kind to me, never smells bad, and is a very hard worker and a very very wonderful father to his children. He is testosterone in a tall package. 

I’ve heard he can be very moody, but have not experienced it. He likes his own time. He also had nose and ear hair, and has not had a decent hair cut or any hair cut since I’ve known him for 28 years. He looked like a cave dweller. Still, there was always a sexual tension, a sexual desire lurking around the backside of my heart for Gordon.

A few months ago, I was standing on Gordon’s porch talking with him and Frank. After Frank went inside, I took a long, hard look at Gordon, pushed him by the chest into his apartment, and closed the door behind us.

“Gordon, damn it, I know I run the risk of losing you as a friend, but here goes: I think you are a good looking man; you are kind and good and have lots of great facial features and lots of great qualities so go get your hair cut and while you are there get those nose hairs and ear hairs cut. And clean up this place, it’s a mess”. He laughed, I hugged him, and left.

I think about a month ago, he called me to see how I was, and I told him I was not so good. I asked him if he would please take me out. “Sure!” he said so happy. “How about if I take you down to the shop so you can see how it looks now?” I asked him. “Sure! That would be great, and then maybe we could get something to eat” he suggested. 

He picked me up at 10:00 on Saturday morning, Oct. 17th. We went to the shop, and he was so complimentary. We stopped at his friend’s tattoo parlor, Poncho’s, on route 40 and met a bunch of nice people. He took me to Coakley’s in Havre de Grace for lunch and I had a couple of beers and some nachos and he was super super nice to me and paid for everything and opened the car door, and treated me like a queen, and took me home. I had a wonderful time. Even though my heart was still loaded with Ray, I think Gordon peeled a tiny corner away, so that he could come in just a little, and Ray could move over just a little. The sexual tension was still there, but I couldn’t get past Gordon’s disheveled looks.

I didn’t hear from him for a week, so I thought, well, I guess he just not into me. OK, we are friends.

Another week went by and Gordon called me and asked if I wanted to go out Friday night, Oct. 30th. “Oh yes!” I said so exited to hear from him. “That would be great!” So he picked me up and we went to the Havre de Grace VFW. A friend of mine, Dave, was the DJ. Dave was gracious and kind enough to pay for all my drinks! And by the way, did I mention that GORDON DOES NOT DRINK???? Let me mention that here: GORDON DOES NOT DRINK. 

So I had a few beers there and we left and Gordon took me to the Union Bar and had a drink there and then Gordon took me to Joe’s Grog in Port and by the time I left there, I was pretty well hammered. Gordon took me home, and I wanted him to come in. I wanted him to come upstairs with me. I asked him to play some cards with me. At first, he said OK. But by the time we got to the barn, he said no. 

“Whyyyyyy??” I whined like a drunk woman. “I’m just tired” he said. That was a lie. He was not tired. He was a gentleman. And when I woke up in the morning and realized this, I became very attracted to Gordon. Very, very attracted to his heart, to his head, to his chivalry. 

I gotta go right now cuz me and Mom are going shopping for some new clothes for Gordon! 

The next day, Gordon called me and asked if I wanted to do something and I said sure! I told him I wanted to get a tattoo. So he picked me up and we went to Poncho’s Tattoo on Rt. 40 and I got a beautiful butterfly tattooed on my upper left arm. It is pink and teal and white and so very pretty and I love it. Gordon thought it was a hoot! 

We left there and Gordon stopped at Wal Mart. “Wait here in the car, I’ll just be a minute,” he told me. When he came back, he handed me a bag and gave me a big smile. “Here, this is for you”, he beamed. I looked in the bag and saw a lava lamp! Gordon had one in his apartment that I just loved, so he bought me one! Ooh, another little chink in the heart!

We left WalMart and I asked him if he would mind if I took him to my hairdresser to get his hair cut. I knew there was a big hunk of handsomeness hiding under that unkempt countenance and I’m sorry I just couldn’t get passed it. So we stopped at Great Clips. I was hoping my lovely friend Tonya was there, but she had the day off. Another girl cut Gordon’s hair. 

After she cut it, and he walked around the corner for me to see him, I thought I would fall over!! I was so correct, Gordon looked wonderful! He looked 10 years younger instantly and his smile seemed so huge! “What do you think?” he smiled and asked me. “Wow! You look yummy!” I smiled back at him. “When was the last time you had your hair cut?” I asked. “About 15 years ago, I usually just cut it off myself.”

THAT was a huge moment. I became instantly physically attracted to Gordon. I noticed he was tall, that he smelled good, that he was handsome, that he had wide shoulders. All over a twelve dollar hair cut! 

The following weekend, Nov. 7th, Gordon called me on a Friday night and asked me if I wanted to go out again! I said “Yes!” He picked me up and we went to Jumbo Jimmy’s. I think I had just a couple of drinks and he took me home because I was so tired. It was a rainy weekend and I wanted to have a big fire on Saturday, but it was too wet. So on Sunday, I started a big fire in the afternoon and invited Gordon. He came over about 3 and he was wearing a big smile. I love his smile. 

We were sitting in the golf cart in front of the barn getting ready to go down to the fire when a big white SUV pulled into the driveway. I didn’t know who it was. Out popped Joey. Oh boy, I thought, here goes another rumor. At first, Gordon didn’t recognize Joey, which I didn’t realize. We chatted, and I invited Joey down to the fire. He stayed for about an hour and left for a party in Elkton. “I can just hear the phone lines burning,” I told Gordon. I knew that Joey and probably all the boys thought I would get Gordon to come in and run the shop. Never, no way, ever. 

Me and Gordon sat by that fire for nearly 8 hours! We talked and cried and laughed and talked some more. The weather was absolutely perfect. We talked for hours about Ray. He loves to talk about Ray and so do I. It is so tremendously helpful to have someone so close that was so close to Ray. Ooh. Another chink in the heart. I could feel myself moving closer to Gordon’s heart and other parts, but he had no part of me. 

I tried flirting a little, saying some suggestive things, but he wasn’t buying it. “I like you very much Gordon”, I told him. “I like you too, hon”, he smiled. “I think I might like you a little more than just like you Gordon,” I said. “Well, I like you too hon”, he said matter of factly. So I thought, well, he’s just not that into me. We’re friends. OK. 

Gordon called me on Monday, November 9th, 2009 and asked me if I wanted to go to the Sale Barn with him. I said yes and he picked me up around 6. I was so happy to see him again. He looked so cute. 

It was dark by then. We chatted all the way over to the Sale Barn. 

We got out of the car and walked towards the barn. He turned and looked at me and asked “Can I please hold your hand?” My heart took a leap like Sarah’s baby when she saw Mary! “Yeess”, I stammered like a 12 year old school girl. “That would be so nice.” I know my smile touched corners in the back of my head as he gently took my hand in his. 

His hand was as rough as 80 grit sandpaper, his fingers stiff and rigid like rebar. Ohhhh so manly. But that was not what made my heart flip 180 for Gordon. That is not what electrified me, infused every cell in my body with joy, and caused me to shudder deep inside my torso. It was just him, just his spirit, his heart, his kindness and tenderness; all his sweetness and loveliness seemed to migrate from his soul down his arm into our hands and enveloped my heart, surrounding it with a thick, soft, blanket of joy! Of security, of dare I say? Love. 

Oh yes, I felt something that night I had never felt before. I would have married him in the Sale Barn that night if he asked. How does all this happen without a kiss? A hug? Without even an acknowledgement of a flirtatious advancement? How did this happen? Why did it happen? How can simply holding someone’s hand change the world?

I didn’t let go all night. Not once. I smiled, I gleamed, I looked at him in the eye for the first time, and he at me. We cajoled and kidded and giggled and drew so close to each other as we walked through the isles of knick knacks and junky treasures. I could hardly speak, barely breath, and I touched his back. I moved to the other side of him and quickly grabbed his other hand, not wanting to lose him, to let him go ever. He bought me some baked goods, he bought my Mom some nice things, he carried all the packages, we got in the car and I grabbed his hand again and held it all the way home. I fell so deeply in love with Gordon that night, that chilly, Monday November 9th night. 

“Mom! Mom! Guess what!” I busted through the door of our barn. “Gordon held my hand tonight!” I exuded. She looked at me a little funny. “And it was soooo wonderful!” She smiled and said “Well that’s fantastic!” I yammered on and on and on about Gordon and how wonderful the evening was as I unloaded all the packages of gew gaws and baked goodies. 

Tuesday, November 10, 2009, marked the 30 year anniversary of the drunk driving crash that paralyzed Laura. The Frederick News Post did a superior 8 part series on the crash. Lots of people were talking about it. I should have been sullen, at least, but I was not. Not even a little. All I could do was to think, breath, yearn for Gordon and persevere like a nervous McCaw. 

I went to his apartment on Wednesday, the 11th after I taught water aerobics. Lots of smiles, lots of hugs. I sat next to him on his tiny sofa and we played X box which is not what I wanted to do but I was so thrilled to be with him. He was so lovely to me. He made me a whole pitcher of iced tea just the way I like it and served it to me in a frozen mug. Wow. I wanted to grab him up and eat him right there. We hugged a lot. But no kisses. I went home early.

I went to his apartment again on Thursday, the 12th after I taught water aerobics. But when I walked in the door this time, he met me with a soft kiss on the lips. Not a deep kiss, just a soft sweet delicious kiss. My knees shook. My back arched. I wanted more, more, but he wasn’t gonna give it. We sat and talked and talked and talked. We hugged. I went home but didn’t want to.

On Friday, November 13th, Gordon picked me up and took me to the tiny rathskellar bar under the Union Hotel Restaurant. I was so drawn to him by this time that I had a hard time walking. We had a few beers and went to the VFW. We promised to keep our hands off each other so as not to dishonor Ray. It didn’t work. We hugged several times and everyone was watching. 

There’s just a little more I would like to include here to wrap this up, if you wouldn’t mind. The following is from my marriage vows to Gordon. Over 60 people left their homes on Thanksgiving morning to come to our marriage ceremony, can you imagine that? And they only got an email invite five days before the wedding! So here's just a small part of what I said to Gordon:

Something huge happened that night in the Sale Barn for both of us and it started with the touch of your hand. In the 28 years I have known you, Gordon, I never ever saw this coming. It wasn't for us to know until that moment.

Two nights later you kissed me and I kissed you back. Two nights after that you really kissed me and I really kissed you back. The next day you told me you loved me and I couldn't wait to tell you that I felt the same. 

The day after that I told you I would not have sex outside of marriage, something I have never said in my life. The day after that you asked me to marry you and nine days later, well, here we are, from hand-holding to marriage in 17 days. Whew! I do not have one shred of doubt about marrying you, Gordon Wiley.

Being with you feels natural and perfect. If you asked me to marry you that night in the sale barn, I would have said yes. I want to make you the happiest man in the world because you have lit a new light in my heart that has never ever been there before. You have given me hope. You have lifted me from the mire and you make me feel beautiful and alive. I'm going to love you really really good for the rest of your life. Thank you for allowing me to be your wife.

One of the very worst things I ever experienced was watching Ray die. The six months following his death were murderous on me for so many reasons, for so many unexpected issues that I didn't know about until after he died. It was grief upon grief heaped on top of more grief.

When I held Gordon’s hand and then married him just 17 days later, I felt then, as I have every day since he touched my hand: I know that he is my gift, he is my reward, and he has doubled-down my knowing that God intervenes, sometimes. 

And sometimes, the very worst thing you could ever imagine happening to you, can turn around and be one of the best things that's ever happened to you. It's crazy; it doesn't make sense, but now, it all makes perfect sense to me.

Thank you for listening, thank you for reading, thank you for being my family, my friend, or a new friend to be, Gratefully Yours, Cindi.