She is a very private person. She’s going to be mad that I wrote this column. This one is being filed under the “better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

There are just some people who are so amazing you feel like you have to tell their story sometimes, even if they hate the attention.

I think she meets the amazing standard to justify this storytelling. I think anyone who’s ever met her would agree.

Several months ago, we had a little extra money. It wasn’t much, but it was extra. I handed her a hundred bucks with some, what I thought, were clear instructions.

“Don’t spend this on anyone but you,” I said. “Don’t spend it on the kids. Don’t spend it on something for the house. Don’t spend it on groceries. Just go get something you want.”

It’s been months. I hadn’t thought about it since that day. I figured she had long since bought herself some clothes or shoes.

Last weekend, she was on the phone and stepped outside to the front porch. This was a bit odd for two different reasons. One, neither of us ever really talk on the phone much, and two, no one ever uses the front porch for anything.

When she walked back in I could tell something was wrong. That may be the worst feeling on earth — those few seconds when you know something is very wrong but you don’t know what yet.

She’s ridiculously strong, so when her face says something is wrong, it’s not the normal kind of wrong. Something is very wrong.

She received some bad news regarding one of her sisters in Cambodia. Without going into details, the family was trying to pool together some money quickly to send over to her.

I started racking my brain for things we could sell. I always have a few second amendment-type items I can sell in a pinch.

Before I could even start talking about we could do, she said, “I can send that hundred dollars for right now. I was saving it for the kid’s Christmas.”

It’s not a lot of money in today’s world. Granted, it’s much more over there than it is over here. But that’s her, in a nutshell. In 500-ish words. She is 100 percent selfless every minute of every day.

Any time I post a picture of the two of us on social media, I get more than one “you outkicked your coverage on that one,” or mentioning how lucky I am to have married up.

While very much true, those comments are in jest and just talking about looks.

It’s stories like this that continuously remind me as to how far I outkicked my coverage just on what kind of person she is.

Speaking of, she’s definitely not the kind of person to beat me up for writing a column about her.

I hope.

Toby Nix is a Newnan writer, guitarist and investigator for the Coweta County Sheriff’s Office. He is the author of two books, “Columns I Wrote” and the newly released “A Book I Wrote.” He can be reached at

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