Jul 312010
 

“That he’s not here is nice,” mused Alisha as I typed the title to this post.

But seriously, I promised my sponsor Rob that I would write something nice about Henry. So here it is.

Before Henry and I started dating, we were just co-workers who occasionally hung out. It was 2001 and I had just met my biological dad’s mother and her sister Charmaine for this first time. Now, for the last 21 years of my life, all I heard was horror stories about how my father’s alcoholism, drug addictions, and the abuse who let loose upon my mom’s face. He was a monster, and not someone I spent a lot of time thinking about.

But sitting there with my grandma and her sister, looking at old photos of him and hearing about the good side that he apparently harbored, I felt really conflicted. Guilty for hating a man I barely had a chance to know, since he died when I was three. I was always thankful that he never had a chance to inflict pain on me, but these women were making me wonder if good things could have come from him being in my life.

I left their house that day and went straight the cemetery, where I sat by his grave and cried. My boyfriend called me while I was sobbing and said, “Oh. If you’re going to be crying all night, then I’m not coming over.”

Then I got a call from Henry, who wanted to know if I wanted to go on a drive with him. When he heard me crying, he said, “Where are you?” I told him and he said, “Stay there.”

He found me in the cemetery and brought me water. We leaned against his car and he let me cry. He let me talk about my family and my feelings and quietly made sure I was drinking the water; he would always lecture me for not drinking enough.

Later that night, my boyfriend wound up coming over anyway. We sat at my dining room table while he ate the fast food he brought over for dinner (for himself, nothing for me). And I sat there, watching him eat, and I realized he was totally not the person I wanted to be with. I made him leave.

“You still up for going for a drive?” I asked Henry when he answered his phone. We wound up sitting on a big rock in a deserted parking lot by Station Square, talking and laughing and just having a good time getting to know each other.

And then I broke up with my boyfriend.

  16 Responses to “#8: Something Nice About Henry”

  1. I am a henry fan. (But shhhh, don’t tell him that) this is such a sweet story. :)

  2. That made me tear up a little!

  3. That is a wonderful little slice of life and love. I feel better for having read it.

    Thank you Erin.

  4. That is a wonderful little slice of life and love. I feel better for having read it.

    Thank you Erin.

    :)

  5. So sweet and romantic! Henry is freaking awesome…and obviously smart and suave with putting the moves on you.

  6. See, an older man is wise. He knows that if you want to pick up a woman, you don’t go to a club and try to find a girl who’s having a good time. She’s already happy. You go to a cemetery and look for a crying girl. God, Henry is so fucking smart! There’s so much I can learn from him. Teach me, Obi-Wan!

  7. D’awww. Team Henry!

  8. All hail Henry. Also you, for being such a good writer and writing that excellent story so well.

  9. Lovie Mr. Henry he is.

  10. Actually, this is one of my favorite Henry stories.

  11. I like these kinds of stories, the “stuff only we would know” kind of stories, intimate details of how things came to be. I feel honored that you shared it, it makes me smile.

    • I’m glad that one of the sponsors requested it, because it was nice to remember the good parts, rather than fixating so hard on all the stuff he does that drives me crazy!

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