The Tomato (marriage) Story – True Love Is Who Gets To Pick the First Garden Tomato…

My husband Michael loves a good fresh home grown tomato sandwich. It brings him back to the days of his childhood. Those balmy summer days in the early 1960’s in the back country of southern Virginia, helping his Granny and Papaw at the old Murphy’s Store at Creeds Corners. In the summers while helping his grandparents at the old store, Little Mikey would run out to the garden between the store and his granny’s house to pick a fresh ripe garden tomato, walking through the garden with just a salt shaker. His bare feet running through the warm freshly raked up soil, shading his eyes with one hand, scanning for red popping through green leaves. Then reaching in to pick a ripe tomato right off the vine. He could barely wait to bite into its warm juicy goodness. Once and a while he would find an over-ripe ‘mater’ (that’s southern for tomato) that fell to the ground and starting to rot – and he would pick those up and throw them in the barn paddock out back because Granny could not sell those. The goats and Billy Boy the pony would eat them right up. He would bring a few other ripe for slicing tomatoes into the store and Granny would make him a sandwich with fresh bologna cut from the store’s little meat counter. He would pair that with a cold coca cola in the glass bottle with a pack of salted peanuts poured in. These were some of the best memories a boy could ever have!

When we were first dating in the 1990’s, Michael took me out to Creeds to meet his Granny and Papaw. They had retired from the running the old country store and Granny was still making him fresh garden tomato sandwiches. She made me one too. I loved those times of visiting them there at their house in Creeds, Virginia, (which is now our home today). To say that these first fresh home grown tomatoes on a sandwich are Mikey’s favorite in the whole wide world is an understatement. Mikey LOVES home grown ‘maters, especially that FIRST ONE of the season.

 

 

When Michael and I were married in the year 2000, we lived in North Carolina, in a small town north of Charlotte called Iron Station. We had a little rental house on a three acre lot. Now all grown up Big Mikey wanted to plant his very own first garden and grow fresh tomatoes like his Granny. The soil in North Carolina is a hard red clay, but Big Mikey was strong and determined to get tomato plants to grow. That spring Michael worked and worked a plot of red clay for days. He was like an Ox to the plow – breaking up the hard soil, digging, hoeing, raking, adding lime and fertilizer until he felt it was ready to plant. Then he carefully picked out his tomato plants and a few cucumber and peppers, and also some squash and zucchini plants for me at a local home improvement store. As newlyweds we proceeded to plant this beautifully prepared garden in hopeful expectation of our first harvest.

At that time early in our marriage, Michael was working in his own plumbing business and I was working at home doing some marketing consulting for NASCAR and helping Michael with his business office work. We were also trying to have our first baby. I had gotten off the road of traveling the NASCAR circuit to stay home and work by phone and email and in those days ‘Faximile’ ….. while Michael was building his plumbing business. I would be in the house busy with my work when Michael would pull in the driveway every evening. I would hear our two Chesapeake Bay Retriever dogs bark when he came home and sometimes he would throw the ball around for them for a while, so I did not realize he was actually walking over to the garden to deeply inspect it before he came in the house. What he was inspecting each and every day when he came home from work, was a teeny tiny first tomato that was beginning to grow on one of his plants.

Now as newlyweds everything is so peachy you know, huggy-kissy lovey-dovey when your husband comes home from work and you want to be a good wife. I was not much of a cook back then but I did the best I could. We were trying to pay the bills and a part of me was distracted as we both were working hard to keep money coming in – because my job was at home my phone was always ringing and many times I would make a meal at lunch time and have some ready to have for Big Mikey when he came in hungry that evening. This was our early marriage life. We were starting out life together and we thought we could finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s minds or we assumed so! Michael never mentioned to me about the tomato growing in the garden that he was so intently watching. I never even thought to ask about it.

As the summer weeks went by, every evening as soon as he pulled in the driveway Michael would get out of his pickup truck and immediately repeat his inspection of the garden, and every day that tomato would get a little bigger. He was intently waiting for it to come to full fruition, how long before it would be ready to pick, he wanted to make sure it was picked at the perfect time – and he was expectant to be the one to do it. Big Mikey could not wait for that moment, that he could come home from work and that would be the day he could pick his very first home-grown tomato, that he grew himself, and proudly bring it in the house and make his very first sandwich with it. That night the tomato was now big and turning red, looking perfect, almost ready to pick. It would just be a matter of days Mikey thought to himself and he could do the honors of picking, slicing and eating his first tomato. Oh the excitement, oh the expectation!

Again, lil ‘ol wifey (me) in the house was still completely oblivious to my beloved husband’s intentions for this very special first tomato…

That next afternoon while Michael was at work, I was busy at home with my own work and very hungry at lunchtime. I glanced out the window and wondered if there was anything in the garden I could pick for a quick lunch. I walked out back and looked around. Zucchinis were still too small, squash was small too and the peppers and cucumbers were still in the flowering stage. I walked around the garden and something caught my eye, one red, ripe tomato.

“Yes!” I said to myself. “This is perfect. I can have a tomato sandwich and save the rest for Big Mikey when he gets home.”

I quickly plucked the tomato, yes THE TOMATO, the one Mikey was intently checking and waiting on each and every day. It was nice, ripe and warm in my hand and I trotted happily back into the house with my two chessie dogs in tow. It was a very hot day and they needed to come in and get cool. However, the day was about to get hotter, and I don’t mean degrees, LOL.

I happily brought the tomato into my kitchen, washed it up and put it on a plate to slice it. I sliced half and made myself a sandwich and set the other half aside for Michael to have when he got home.

I thought to myself: “Michael will be so excited to see there is a tomato ready for him to eat from our garden and make a sandwich with tonight.”

I ate my sandwich and went back to work. As the sun began to set, I knew Mikey would be home soon and I let our chessie dogs, Ginny and Herschel back outside to wait for their dad to come home.

I went back to my work of faxes and calls in my little home office and heard the dogs barking – announcing Michael was home from work and in the driveway. “Still some daylight,” I thought. “He will throw the ball for the dogs for a bit before he came in for a sandwich.”

Well, that was not the case. Mikey did exactly like he had been doing for the last two months when he came home from work. Jumping out of his pickup truck and immediately walking over to the garden to inspect his harvest, particularly his tomato.

He began to walk closer to the garden, he did not see the red peeking through the green to greet him as he had the last two days before. Something was not right. He walked closer, went directly to the plant were the ripening tomato had been. There were other green tomatoes, but his first red and ripening tomato, the one he had been watching every single day…. IT WAS GONE.

Michael stopped in his tracks, looked all around the garden, then around the property. “Could a racoon or somethin’ come sneakin’ in here and stole his tomato?” He pondered.

He stopped and knelt down to look under the plants, maybe it had fell off and rolled. Nope.

Now, what could have happened to his precious first tomato?

He marched into the house, I was working in my office and jumped up to greet him with a hug and a kiss. No hug, no kiss…. I looked at his face – it was red and he was looking at me with his furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong Honey?” I asked.

“What happened to my tomato?” He announced shortly.

I looked at him blankly. “Your tomato?”

“Yes! My tomato! Did you pick my tomato? Did you?” His 6’5″ frame glared over my 5’3″ as I looked up at him wide eyed. I had a feeling I was in a pickle here.

“Ummm, well I did go out to the garden today at lunch to see if anything had ripened and I found a ripe tomato so I picked it and sliced it up for us, I made a sandwich and there is half of the tomato all sliced up and ready for you.” I explained sweetly.

Flashes of the “I Love Lucy” show came into my mind of how Lucy felt when her husband Ricky Riccardo would come home and she had some “splainin’ to do!

Big Mikey did not find this humorous or nostaligic and Ethel was not going to come in the door and help me in taking part of the blame here. I looked at our two Chessie dogs wagging their tails waiting for dad to pet them and they were not much help in this situation, Big Mikey was looking at me for what seemed like an hour just glaring, ignoring the dogs vyying for his attention. (Remind me next time I get two dogs to name them Fred and Ethel, or maybe Betty and Barney, or maybe Perry Mason and Della Reese I might have needed a good lawyer here. Ha.)

Then he threw up his hands. “You ruined it!”

I ruined it? I could not understand all the fuss over a tomato.

“Yep!” He exclaimed. “You ruined the whole thing. I don’t want no dang sliced up tomato!”

I was perplexed. I could not say a word. I just stood there. I had never seen my husband so upset.

He paced the room in front of the door, I wanted to go into the kitchen and take the plate of the sliced tomato and try to state my case that my intentions were good for him, but he was not having it.

“You don’t understand….” He had a sadness in his voice. “I waited all these years to plant my first garden. I wanted to have that first tomato because it reminded me of when I was a kid, happy times in my granny’s garden. I worked so hard and wanted to make that first tomato special. I was so proud of growing that tomato. I wanted to make that very moment of picking my first home grown tomato, and taking it into the house myself and making that first slice and sandwich – now it’s all ruined.”

My lip started to tremble and tears welled up in my eyes. My heart sank. I felt horrible. How could I have not known this? My big sweet Hubby with his big sweet heart! This was not about the tomato. This was about ‘who’ he was as a person. It was his nostalgia. Memories of his childhood were connected to that one tomato. It was more than a tomato, it was a legacy he was trying to continue and wanted that moment of victory. He looked at it as his ‘Victory Garden” and that first tomato was the prize!

“Oh Honey, I am so sorry! Please forgive me!” I reached out to hug him.

He leaned up against the door jam, shaking his head at the ceiling and with a groan, he hugged me back, I could smell the sweat and dirt on him from working at his plumbing on the construction sites all day. I loved that smell of my hard working man. He deserved to be blessed by his first tomato. I realized in that moment, I needed to be a better wife, and more than that a better friend. I needed to really ‘get to know’ the true heart of my husband. “I forgive ya.” He said with a slight huff. “But don’t ever do that again, ask me about these things, first allright?” “Allright.” I replied, and hugged him tighter.

Maybe I could have got angry back at him, maybe I could have got defensive and said to him; “Well you should have told me how you felt about the garden and the tomato when you planted it! You should have communicated better! I did not know, don’t get mad at me for picking the tomato when you should have explained all this to me before.”

But I did not say all that in that moment.

Shoulda coulda woulda….. God was teaching us something about marriage.

I would realize later it was one of the most important lessons we ever had.

Who is your husband? Who is your wife? What shaped them into who they are today. What is precious to them? Do you understand why certain things are important to them. These were questions I had to research and get understanding about the man I married. I did not realize how important this was until this very moment.

Marriage is not about working jobs, saving money and making sure food is on the table and hoping you will have a good retirement some day then you can talk and rest on the front porch or in a condo in Florida.

Marriage is a Victory Garden to be lovingly tended to daily. Jesus said that God looks at Marriage as His Masterpiece. God wanted to walk in the Garden with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day and talk with them. It was their set aside time that God, Adam and Eve and God looked forward to every day. We enter God’s rest in His presence. We should be at rest in our marriage, because it’s our happy place to be in each other’s presence, fellowshipping.

The first garden for Michael and I should have been our treasure together. We should have been going out to that garden together every day in expectation of the first tomato together. Not just Michael. This works both ways in a marriage, as Michael did the same for me with the things that were important to me.

I realized then that was a lesson also preparing us to be good parents to our child that we had been praying for our first year of marriage. We had to treasure our child together, dote on her together, share in the care, share in the expectation of growth and victories in her life. Both of us.

Marriage is loving each other’s legacy and making it your own. It’s not what is mine and what is his – it’s what is ours. Then your hope is to love the other person’s heart so much you never want to hurt it. That means getting your head out of your own stuff and taking the time to ‘walk in the garden’ with the ones you love. God made it that way. That’s how true relationships flourish, that’s how abundant harvests come for marriages and families. Great blessings come from great relationships.

Recently I was telling the “Tomato Story” at a family dinner with Me, Big Mikey and our now 18 year old daughter and her sweet boyfriend, Cory. We were all laughing at the story, even Big Mikey. I was glad we could laugh at it, now!

I was glad I had this lesson to teach our own daughter, for her own marriage. This is wisdom that must be passed on to the next generation.

Now 20+ years into marriage, Big Mikey planted another garden. He planted tomatoes of course. Together we walk out to the garden and check the plants. We both get excited to watch the first tomato turn red. I cheer on Mikey and his tomato!

Out of tradition now, Michael picks the first tomato, brings it into the house, and I take a picture of him proudly slicing his first tomato. Our love is stronger than ever, but only strengthened by these important lessons along the way!

Big Mikey (my hubby) now living in Creeds, Virginia (we inherited Granny and Papaw’s house in 2008) Happily slicing his first home grown garden tomato. “Fixin’ to make that first tomato sandwich!” July 2020.

This story shared with love to all of you! I hope it blessed you! Here is a picture of Big Mikey, slicing his first garden tomato of the year 2020 – here in his granny’s old kitchen, now our kitchen. God is GOOD and so was this tomato – Mikey had him a big ‘ol tomato sandwich with Miracle whip of course – them I got the other half of the tomato with Dukes Mayo on mine (well you have to have some things that make you different from each other – that’s what brings the fun!)

Love you all and remember to LIVE LIFE LARGE,

– Annamarie Strawhand, Big Mikey’s Best Friend and Tomato Watcher (not picker) Watcher. Hee hee.

“Get yer paws off that first ‘mater!” – Michael Strawhand