The Rerouted Skytress

Sweet Muscles. That is what I called my sweet Ron. Ron was six foot- three and had incredible muscles. Many times when I would see him, I would smile and say “Hubba-Hubba”. It always embarrassed him. Once another Skytress looked at Ron when she was throwing her trash away. She told him he was a VERY handsome man. Ron immediately got embarrassed. He thought she was part of my crew and I had asked her to say this to him. When I told him I had never met her before he didn’t know what to say. I smiled at him and told him I wasn’t the only one who thinks he is Hubba-Hubba. In true Ron fashion he said, “You’re funny.”

I met Ron in 2012. Both of us could never remember when in 2012. But, we always remembered the day. I was jumpseating to Atlanta. Ron was working my flight. I’ve met a lot of people in my life. Never have I felt God tap me on my shoulder and tell me…”pay attention to this person.” But, I distinctly felt God do this. So I paid attention every day. It wasn’t hard. Ron was an amazing human being. I remember very clearly the first day we met Ron came to talk to me after the crew was done with their service. Smack-dab in the middle of our conversation Ron said I had the most beautiful smile. It caught me completely off guard. It actually made me smile more. This was the first of many times he would say this to me. It always made my heart flutter. For some reason he was enamored with my smile. One day I went into the bathroom and I noticed Ron started buying my tooth paste brand. He never said anything to me about it. So, I never said anything to him. But, I found it endearing.

I also found it endearing that Ron believed we had met at the beach when we were younger. Ron grew up in Florida. He loved surfing so he spent a lot of time at the beach. My family would spend the summers in Ponce Inlet. The first time Ron told me he thought we met when we were younger I laughed. I told him I would have remembered meeting a cute surfer. So he clarified that we hadn’t talked. Every once in awhile Ron would be sitting quietly. I could tell he was in deep contemplation. He would eventually turn to me and say he KNEW he had met me on the beach. After awhile I didn’t laugh. I could tell he was remembering something. I eventually would say to him each time he said this….”I believe your memory is better than mine.”

Ron was also a drummer. He played in numerous band throughout the years. His favorite time to play the drums was in the morning. He would quip that unfortunately there wasn’t much need for a drummer in the morning. Their loss was my gain. He would play his drums all the time for me. I was mesmerized when he would play. Ron always encouraged me to play his drums. He had two drum sets. One day I asked him to teach me to play a rimshot. After he taught me he wanted to teach me more stuff. I told him I just wanted to learn the rimshot. He told me I was funny. Then he taught me more. He said I was a natural drummer. Unfortunately, I was a natural that had a bad memory. Each time I would sit down to play, I would ask him again to show me how to play the rimshot. Insert your own rimshot here! Ba-dom-tshhh.

Music filled Ron’s life. A good lyric wowed him every time. He also had a calculated system of listening to a song several times. Each time he would concentrate on a different instrument. He loved how the individual pieces eventually became one. Since Ron was a music aficionado, we always had music playing at the house. Many times Ron would play the Beatles channel on SiriusXM just to prove a point to me. I told him once I wasn’t a fan of the Beatles. Inconspicuously, he would put the station on and catch me singing the songs all the time. He would say to me….”You realize this is a Beatles song you are singing?” My response was always the same….”I like this one. It’s a good song.” He would smile and shake his head and tell me I was funny.

One song Ron wasn’t a fan of was MacArthu Park. It’s the song with the lyrics..”Someone left the cake out in the rain. I don’t think I can take it. Cause it took so long to bake it”. Apparently, this song was playing when Ron was at the hospital when he was younger. Ron loved to tell me he equated the song with his lifelong dislike of elevators. Ron avoided any elevator he could. He never took the crew lounge elevator. He always took the stairs with his luggage in tow. He would get rooms on a lower floor at hotels so he could take the stairs. One time we were in Columbia. We went up to the rooftop where they had a sitting area. It was beautiful. We decided to leave when storms and lightning started to move in closer. The elevator down was small and rickety. Ron was not a fan. He said it might be safer sitting with the storms and lightning than going down in the elevator. The trip down was quite memorable. Ron held his breath praying the elevator didn’t get stuck. I held my breath and prayed for Ron that the elevator didn’t get stuck.

Another trip we hoped would be memorable was a trip we were planning to Banff, Alberta, Canada. Banff was on my bucket list. When I told Ron about Banff and showed him pictures, he definitely wanted to go together. One day I told him about some fishing excursions outside of Banff. Ron loved to fish. I wanted him to be able to have a day where he could go fishing. Unselfishly, he said this was my dream trip. He reiterated he was coming along to be with me and enjoy our time together. He knew I was not a fisherman. Secretly, I still planned for him to go fishing. My plan was to watch him fish and enjoy. After all, it was my dream trip. We had our plans set to go one year. Then my Mom ended up having surgery. The next year we had planned to go and his Mom’s health declined. Sadly, we never had another opportunity to go to Banff.

Even though Ron loved the beach and water, he also loved the mountains. Both were things we had in common. I love the beach….and the mountains. I’m originally from Montana. Every once in a while I would look at property out West. Somewhere along the way Ron decided my plan of a home out West would become our plan. I remember one night we were talking about Montana. I told him I was going to start designing our home on a cocktail napkin. I reminded him many great ideas have come about in the world because someone wrote it….or designed it…on a cocktail napkin. I said if I started to design our place on a cocktail napkin it surely come to fruition. Ron said this made him laugh and a wee bit scared. He knew it would happen…and we would eventually have a home out West. One day Ron was curious why I was on-line looking at the hospitals in Montana. I jested since we were designing a place that we could live in until our old age, maybe it would be good if we were close to one of the better hospitals in Montana. Ron chimed in that he didn’t want to be too close to our neighbors, but, he wanted them in eyesight…..just in case we had to run for help. We both laughed when he said this. I stopped designing the house after Ron died. Months later I decided to finish the plans. One day I hope to build it.

Oh there are so many things I could write about Ron. I know I’ll weave stories into my blog in future posts. It would be hard not too. Time wove our lives together in many ways. I catch myself thinking daily about Ron. There were so many things that made him distinctly my Sweet Muscles. Whether it was how he would sweetly hug me so he could slide to the side closest to the road to “protect me”….because he was taught men are supposed to this when he was younger. Or how he loved to use the words “discombobulated” and “recombobulated”. And how if you said.”Well” very softly he would say…”That’s a deep subject.” I caught him one day saying this and he smiled. He had been saying it forever and was waiting for me to catch on. He told me there was another word I would say and he would say something quietly. He was waiting for me to figure it out. I pleaded for him to tell me. He said I was a smart girl and I would eventually catch it. I told him if he loved me he would tell me. He told me because he loved me he wouldn’t. He wanted me to have the satisfaction of figuring it out. I never did. Hopefully when I see him in Heaven he will tell me. However, I’m sure he won’t. He’ll say, “You’re funny”. Then he will probably say something to the effect that I now have eternity to figure it out. Yes, that is exactly what my Sweet Muscles will do. Of course, I’ll smile. And once again he will tell me I have a beautiful smile…. and my Heavenly heart will flutter.