“Yes”

“Yes.”

Three letters, and yet one of the most powerful, life-changing, single most meaningful words that exists in the English language. I mean, think about it, I asked my now wife to marry me and…well, actually, the first time she didn’t say “yes,” but she didn’t devastate me with “no” either. “Not yet,” she said. Which, to be honest, as much nerve as it took me to ask, was rather devastating, but not life changing. Nothing changed. We kept dating and next time I asked, she said “yes.” Woah. Now that was powerful. You go from single, self-centered “I” to what-God-has-brought-together-let-no-man-turn-asunder-till-death-do-us-part, “we.” Life-changing.

And then we had the ‘let’s have a baby’ “yes.” Well, actually, the first time I proposed it, she didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say “no” either. Just, well, at the risk of repeating myself, “not yet.” But I won that battle of wills. Our son was born 2 years after I asked and 3 years before she planned. We went from happy-go-lucky-bicycle-built-for-two, to, why is he crying why won’t he stop crying why am I crying parents of the cutest, smartest baby ever who never slept until he was three. Life-changing.

The years pass, and I ask a lot of questions that receive resounding no’s but it’s no big deal. Life continues.

Then one day, when we’d been married 18 years, I explained to my wife that I was unhappy and I really wanted to start my own business. I had been working for a carpet company for 15 years and their future looked bleak so I wanted to start my own.

Now, to be honest, I expected a resounding “no.” I had asked various job-related questions over the years - to relocate to Georgia or Texas to take on a new position – same field, more money. The answer was always “no” for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was “our son needs stability” but also included we would find it really difficult to fit in in the south with our very modern family of mixed races, religions and cultures.

But this time, when I asked if it was okay to start my own business, she smiled at me and said, “Yes.”

I may have shit my pants.

Part of me asked assuming she would say “no” so I didn’t have to worry really about trying and failing.

But, she said, “Yes.”

So, I resigned, I cashed in my meager 401K for $50,000, I spoke to one of my esteemed colleagues to see if she wanted to join me, she did, and her husband invested $50,000 in us, we bought a truck, I designed a line of carpets, my manufacturer consigned us our first line, within six months, I was on the road for a six-week trek around the continental United States visiting possible retailers for my carpets.

Life changing.

My partner called ahead each day to a potential customer to confirm the appointment and time. I would go and show my wares while also deciding if the location was a place where I wanted my rugs to be shown. We wanted only high-end stores. Some wouldn’t even deign to see me. Some I drove by, holding my nose.

Have you ever traveled across the country in a box truck for six weeks by yourself? I know every Comfort Inn from Virginia across the south to California and back across the north to New Jersey with some spattered across the middle. Longest six weeks of my life.

I saw three seasons in 24 hours one day. I have never seen such beautiful and varied nature in one country as I have while traveling across the states in my truck. And I met some really nice people. So many waitresses gave me extra food in my doggie bags for the road. Some offered me their beds but I just showed them pictures of my wife and son. (To be honest, that did not always put them off, but I just smiled and went on my way.)

In Mississippi, I had a seafood platter at a little out of the way place with no empty seats. It was unlike any seafood platter I had ever encountered: frog legs, alligator, crawfish, oysters, blue crab, gulf shrimp. One of the many great meals I had while traveling. The waitress sent me on my way with my leftovers, an extra can of Coke, a smile, and I think her number scrawled on the side of the bag.

While driving along the border with Mexico, a police officer stopped me and asked what I had in the truck.

“Rugs,” I replied.

“What?” he screeched.

“Rugs,” I said again, confused and more than a little concerned.

“Get out of the truck! Now!” He screamed. “Open the back!”

I did as he demanded. When he saw the rugs, he started laughing hysterically. “I thought you said ‘drugs’,” he said, still laughing. (I’m not certain that anyone actually carrying drugs would admit that, but, whatever.)

You should know, I have a fairly strong accent. I was born in Turkey, and although I have lived more of my life speaking English than Turkish, I’m clearly not a native speaker of English. Hence, the “drugs” “rugs” fiasco.

We laughed and I continued down the road. A few miles later I was stopped by another border cop. I had learned my lesson. When he asked me what was in the truck, I said “carpets.”

In California, my wife and I had a one-night stand in Monterey. She was on a business trip and I was visiting a potential client in the area. We had a nice dinner, stayed in a much nicer hotel than I had been accustomed to in my travels, and I was off in my truck early in the morning while she flew home.

Towards the middle of the return trip, I was in a restaurant in Montana one day and people were looking at me (perhaps slightly worried). Finally, a guy at the next table said, “You talking to me?”

Oops. Yes, you got it. I was talking to myself. Out loud. I hadn’t even noticed.

Getting gas for my truck the next day, I accidently gave it diesel fuel. I still don’t know how the truck didn’t die on me right then and there.

It was definitely time to get home.

I did two more six-week trips over the following years: one causing me to miss my son’s high school graduation, the other with a friend who thought I was his travel agent rather than his being there to help me with my business. Disaster. I knew I was done with road trips after that. (By the way, I did NOT miss my son’s college graduation.)

Now, 10 years later, I don’t have to drive anywhere except to my showroom. I fly to visit clients and some come visit me. My rugs are in about 23 states and some 10 foreign countries. I have won multiple awards for my designs at international competitions. I have taught workshops for a new generation of designers and have been honored as Carpet Man of the Year.

All because she said, “Yes.”

Life-changing, indeed.