the story of us….

began many years ago. and in many ways it is not good or sweet. but it is what it is and God has really blessed us in spite of all that.

i was in the 9th grade. he was in 8th because his mother held him back in the 4th grade, so even though he was older than me, i was in a higher grade.

i had seen him on the bus a few times. he sat in the back with all of the troublemakers.

i, of course, sat towards the front like a good girl. i really was a good girl.

he caught my eye because he was always so well dressed. and he always had different. new. shoes.

interestingly enough his brother had “walked me home” a few times. he played football. he got good grades. but he was really quiet. and at 14 years old, quiet wasn’t really my thing.

so one day that cute troublemaker-every parents’ nightmare for their daughter- got into a fight at school and hurt his hand. i am sure he got expelled or suspended or something. but he also got my attention. because that’s how teenage attraction works. it has no rhyme or reason. it makes one do things out of character. like go and sit next to him. to ask about his hand, of course. and pretty much from that day on…we were an item. we began this passionate. dramatic. and in many ways sinful relationship.

we had way too much unsupervised contact and this was really the fuel that fed the fire.

we lived in the same small town. my parents were rarely home. and he was more than willing to give me the attention that most 13 year-old girls crave. he adored me and i adored the fact that he adored me.

of course the result of all that passion was that i ended up pregnant at 17. i finished up highschool at a school especially for pregnant teen mothers. i graduated a year later. and by the time our son turned one, “dad” was out of the picture. we just didn’t want the same things anymore.

with my heart broken into a million tiny pieces i went on to college and at nights i put myself through a paralegal program at a nearby law school. i earned my certificate and kept working towards my aa in administration of justice.

in one of my aoj classes i met a young man who had his eyes on a career with the border patrol. we became friends and eventually we started spending a lot of time together. his mom had been a single mother so he was really good with my son. he joined the military. we dated off and on when he came home. we wrote letters. talked on the phone a lot. and i even traveled to the east coast to see him graduate from the academy.

about a year later he proposed. he gave me the ring of my dreams.( i loved that ring). we began our marriage classes. the arrangements for the reception were beginning. white raw silk was chosen and my dress design was underway. i had my first few fittings with the dressmaker. i was all set to travel to germany for a visit where he was stationed. we would go to antique stores and IKEA to pick out some things for the apartment we’d have in germany. but about 2 weeks before my scheduled flight, i was still waiting for mine and my sons’ passports, someone came tumbling back into the picture.

it had been almost 4 years and there he was. that same troublemaker again.

he hadn’t changed much. he was a little taller.

but he was my baby daddy.

and that made me have such a soft spot for him. and that made taking him back so easy.

so i did.

i jilted the other guy. left him hanging. and i am not proud to say that because it wasn’t right to break his heart the way that i did.

but it also wasn’t right to marry someone that i didn’t passionately love.

and i passionately love this man who is my husband.

so i sent the ring back. finished paying for a dress i’d never wear. and much to everyone’s surprise we moved in together.

fast forward  20 YEARS.

here we are now. 4 kids later.

he still drives me insane. but he is my lid. every pot has its’ lid and he is mine.

and….like  barb said, with God as our witness, we got married.

a very simple but sweet ceremony. on the rainy-est. stormy-est day of the year.

my mom made my dress. cream-colored silk. i made my veil. my aunt did the flowers. we had lots of candles and white lights. we had two parties. the first was cozy and intimate. my dad toasted us. which is something he probably thought he’d never do. but he did. my grandma gave us an irish blessing. and then we were off to a big. festive. party with his family. which was outside. under a tent. we danced. we laughed. we ate more cake. and by the end of the evening i was exhausted. we went home and i cried myself to sleep.

that sacramental marriage changed everything.

it saved us. literally. and i knew it immediately.

in march we will celebrate 10 YEARs of marriage.

some days are better than others.

it’s still not all good nor sweet.

but what God has joined together….well, you know the rest.

and without any regrets: i so look forward to what the future holds for us in each chapter that is part of this journey we call our life. 

happy love day, friends…i do hope i did not disappoint you in this telling of the story of us.

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