And I'm Not Linda

We were a family of five renting a brick home in a quiet little neighborhood in Madison Heights.  Life was tough at times, but we were healthy and happy.  Our music of choice at the stime was oldies or, more often, country.  Conway Twitty was churining out hit after hit.  I am a never ending fan of his so I enjoyed all his hits, but one in particular really caught my husband's ear and he loved it.  The song was Linda on My Mind.

Not long after it came out we moved to an old farm house on the corner of one of the busiest streets in the Detroit suburb of Royal Oak.  There was a small house next door with a young family in it.  Imagine my surprise when the lady of the house turned out to be named Linda.

Of course, I unmericfully teased my husband about it right from the start.  He took it in good humor though he would add when we were alone that he wouldn't have that Linda under any circumstances.  Almost from the start she was at our house more than home and her husband continually complained about her lack of houskeeping ablities.  Still they were nice people and we became friends.  Within a year the bottom fell out of Michigan's economy and my husband was laid off.

His parents were already in Oregon so we decided to make the move.  We sold what we could, sent some stuff ahead, and packed the rest.  Linda was right there in the midst of it all making sure my husband had everything he needed down to the last day.  Her husband even offered to pack her bag so she could go with us.  It was funny in a way, but sad too.

Once in Oregon we lost touch with our friends, but whenever we heard that song I would remind my husband of the Linda he left behind and he would roll his eyes and say "Thank God."