TEXARKANA MAGAZINE
GOOD EVENING TXK COLUMN BY BAILEY GRAVITT
I don’t fish. That’s probably the most important thing to get out of the way before I introduce you to my new stepdad. His name is John Cox. He married my mom on May 22, 2025, and before I even had time to overthink it as I usually do, our family tree gained a new branch. A stable one. A gentle one. A drives a truck, works with his hands, goes fishing to decompress kind of branch. Basically, the polar opposite of me. As we have established, I decompress by locking the door and running a bath, steaming like a plate of Waffle House hash browns. But even if we find peace in different places, I think we understand the feeling just the same, because peace is peace, my friends. And that’s what John brings to my mom’s life. That’s what he brings to ours. Last June, I wrote an article about my own dad—my biological one. I talked about how forgiveness isn’t a light switch you just flip one day, but a million small moments of bravery, heartbreak, grace, heartbreak again, and surrender. There were a lot of tears in that piece. A lot of things I’d never said out loud before. But this year feels like the other side of that story. Last June, I was grieving a loss. This June, I’m celebrating a gain. It’s a full circle moment. Growing up, I prayed hard for my mom, as I watched her carry the heavy, burdensome weight of life on her shoulders with a kind of strength that made me proud, but also a little sad. No one should have to be that strong that long. I asked God to send her someone who didn’t just see her, but cherished her—someone tender, consistent, good. And then John showed up. Sadly, I don’t think he knew what he was walking into.
There was skepticism at first. Not because of anything he did wrong, but because rejection has a way of leaving behind a scar that sometimes itches, even after it’s healed. I didn’t know if I was ready to trust another man. I have always struggled to trust men. But what I can say about John Cox since the day he met us is that he has shown up… fully, kindly, without performance or pressure. He loves my mom the way she deserves to be loved. He laughs with her. He calls her beautiful. He steadies her. And without ever saying the words, he made it clear he wanted to love her kids, too. We’re all grown now, so he didn’t have to. But he chooses to anyway. John David got a new fishing buddy. Parker got a new partner for sports banter. And I got a reminder that second chances don’t just exist, they can exceed your expectations. I got a quiet presence that doesn’t try to change me, but supports me instead. I got someone who tells my mom, “You’ve done it alone long enough. Let me help now.” This isn’t about fairy tales or happy endings, because life’s way messier than that. This is about faithfulness, a little bit of redemption, and the slow, steady kind of God-orchestrated healing that sneaks up on you when you’re not even looking. I love watching someone love my mom with both hands open. We all want to believe good people still exist in the world, and John is living proof they do. I don’t fish. But I’ve started looking at fishing poles a little differently these days.
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