Twenty years ago, the boy I had a huge crush on took me on my very first date. Turns out, it was my only ‘first date’. Because sometimes one is all you need.
When I was 16…
you took me on a walk at Glenmore resevoir. You told me you had a question for me, but you kept changing the subject and clearing your throat. We talked about exams and schoolwork. We talked about our friends. We talked about the gifts we had gotten at Christmas. We talked about the weather, for Pete’s sake. I wondered if you were ever going to get to the point. Finally, as we turned towards home you blurted out “doyouwantogooutwithme?”
Of course I said “YES!” and then tried desperately to act cool about the whole thing.
When I was 18, you took me on a walk at Glenmore resevoir after dinner. You put your suit jacket over my shoulders to keep me warm. You were fidgety and nervous. I wondered what was wrong with you. You got down on one knee, right in the snow, and blurted out “willyoumarryme?”.
I think there was some stuff about how much you loved me et cetera… but I was crying and laughing and entirely giving up any pretense of coolness, so I don’t really remember.
When I was 16…
you reached over and took my hand for the first time. It was a bit awkward. We hadn’t figured out how to fit our fingers together just right, but you didn’t let go all the way back home.
When I was 23, you held my hand while we waited for the results of the pregnancy test. You held my hand in the hospital waiting room. You held my hand when the doctors told us our baby had died, and during labour and delivery. You held my hand when they took him away. You didn’t let go, not then and not through the sad, sad months to come.
You held my hand through 4 more children. Two girls, another stillborn baby boy, and our youngest who came one month early with a little extra in the DNA department.
Our hands fit together perfectly now; we don’t even have to think about it.
When I was 16…
we played Monopoly and you tried to slip me money so that I would win. You crushed me. I was embarrassed because I wanted you to think I was smart and capable, and because I really, really like to win.
When I was 30, we started family games night. Candyland, then Trouble and Sorry, eventually chess, Scrabble and Monopoly. You help the girls here and there, you give them tips, but we don’t let them win every game. It’s more fun that way, a real challenge. Because we all really, really like to win.
When I was 16…
we went to A&W for dinner, then to see Beauty and the Beast in the theatre. I was skeptical that anything could compete with Little Mermaid. We shared popcorn, and halfway through the movie you put your arm around me in one quick, smooth motion, and then let out a sigh of relief.
You were so cute! I couldn’t believe how fun this dating thing was turning out to be.
When I was 36, you took me to A&W for dinner, then to the movies for our 20 year “anniversary”. Beauty and the Beast 3D was playing and that seemed romantic, but we decided to see Sherlock Holmes instead. We’ve seen enough kids movies to last 3 lifetimes. I ate all the popcorn and you drank a huge pop. You had to go to the bathroom 3 times and I teased you mercilessly about it.
We still laugh and act like teenagers when we are on a date. I have more fun with you than anyone else.
When I was 16…
you walked me to the LRT station. I leaned in to hug you and you stole your first kiss. I was shocked. Church girls like me didn’t expect that on a first date. But you were worldly and wild like that.
When I was 22, you decided you wanted to serve God with your life. Your family thought we were crazy. Mine thought we were saints. They were both wrong. I knew our life wouldn’t be normal or easy; it wasn’t what I expected. But you were brave and devoted like that.
Now we live in the real world, and that ministry life is a memory. We’ve learned a lot since then. And the kissing has just gotten better and better.
When I was 16…
we had our first fight. My friend Claire and I smoked a cigarette in the alley behind my house. The next week I drank half a pitcher of real margaritas at a restaurant and got a little tipsy. You were appalled when you found out. You wondered who I was. I called you a stuffed shirt.
When I was 19, we had our first married fight – day one of our honeymoon, at the breakfast table. I ordered Eggs Benedict and you had the pancakes platter. I snagged a piece of bacon and popped it in my mouth. You looked at me like I had kicked your puppy. Apparently, you do not share food. This has not changed.
But you’ve shared everything else with me for the past 20 years, so I’m not going to complain. You can have all the bacon.
I picked the best man in the world when I was 16. I let you think it was all your idea, but I knew what I wanted. And I really, really like to win.
So here’s me, SO incredibly grateful that I got to grow up with you by my side.
January 25th, 2012 at 8:37 am
I love this one! One disappointment for me when reading it however, was that at the boardgame section, I was anticipating the mention of the time you bought your own Catan game and you won again withough really meaning to and Glen threw the game across the room and apparently said you didn’t deserve to win because you didn’t even really want it bad enough…maybe it’s not too late to ammend your post. I think it shows the more human side of Glen. You don’t want your friends to think he’s too perfect or you’ll cause trouble in marriages all over. It’s really your duty to present the whole truth I think.
I’m so glad he turned out to be okay after all. I wasn’t sure for a while. He just didn’t seem to be ‘houseboating material’ but now I totally think he’s ‘houseboating material’. We should get onto that.
January 25th, 2012 at 9:21 am
Quit causing trouble Janis! And – you were right the first time: I’m most definitely NOT houseboating material, at least not if it involves 8 kids.
January 25th, 2012 at 2:18 pm
Awwww, it’ll be fun. We should go while it’s only the 8.
January 25th, 2012 at 2:15 pm
The houseboating dream lives on!
I think I did mention the insane competitiveness… just made it sound nicer. Even that is a plus, not everyone can handle my trash talk.
January 25th, 2012 at 9:10 am
Awhh beautiful Christie! What a love story. What a way with words. You are an inspiration to me to write my own love story because I knew what i wanted and I like to win too!!!! LOL It is a good reminder to cherich the love and husbands God gave us.
January 25th, 2012 at 2:17 pm
I would LOVE to read your love story. Especially any embarrassing bits. We could put it on the SR website?
Seriously, it’s quite fun to look back and remember where we came from.
January 25th, 2012 at 6:38 pm
This is an amazing story! If we are all lucky to feel this way after 20 years the world would be an awesome place!!
January 25th, 2012 at 8:18 pm
Ya, he’s a keeper. I’m fully expect that we’ll be that couple in the nursing home bickering over the monopoly board and insisting that they push our twin beds together.
I can think of a thousand ways it could have gone very wrong getting married at nineteen. Lord knows we’d like our girls to be actual adults before they tie the knot. We’ve been blessed.
January 27th, 2012 at 5:35 pm
[…] week I told my love story. That’s right – cue the “awwww”! Suffice it to say, it’s been a […]
December 30th, 2012 at 6:01 am
[…] Twenty years ago today, the boy I had a huge crush on took me on my very first date. Turns out, it was my only ‘first date’. Because sometimes one is all you need… Read More. […]
June 25th, 2013 at 8:23 am
[…] If you’ve never live-tweeted a date, then maybe you won’t understand. When something goes wrong I text him. When something tickles my funny bone, I send a picture with a caption. When he can’t be there with us, he’s the first to like it on Facebook. When I want him to know how much I appreciate him, I tell the world (here and here and here). […]
January 27th, 2014 at 6:09 pm
THIS. IS. ADORABLE!