As I was shopping last week, my eyes and ears were immediately drawn to an elderly couple standing at the cake department. Their frailty was apparent; yet, their voices were jubilant and lively as they explained to the baker, that their 65th wedding anniversary was next week and how they had comically and accidently met for the first time as she was supposed to have a date with her husband’s twin brother.
Tears stung my eyes, as this couple was the epitome of how I had envisioned my life would have evolved into the golden years with my husband. Despite my emotional state, I couldn’t contain myself; I went up to congratulate them. This sweet, endearing couple, not knowing me, hugged me and expressed their thanks. Unbeknownst to them, they bestowed on me a profound gift. A reminder, an exercise challenge- amidst my sorrow, turbulent ache, and longing for my husband, that for today, I was going to focus on the blessing of how God orchestrated the beginning of our love story.
The first time I laid eyes on my beloved husband, I was in the 8th grade helping the librarian shelve books. He walked by me as he began work on the school remodel. Our eyes connected. I was a little uneasy; although, had a strange feeling that was not the last time our lives would cross. Fast forward to 1988-I was 21. He walked into the store that I was managing and asked me a question. The outline of his face and his strong demeanor seemed familiar, and in an unexplainable way, comforting and exhilarating all at once. As the famous movie line goes, “You had me at hello!” He most definitely did! However, much to my dismay, he did not ask me out until later. When he finally did, my response to him was, “Well, it’s about time!”
Our first date was magical. After he dropped me off, I got my notebook out where I had listed the qualities that I desired in a husband. He fit all of them! We dated for six months. We discussed marriage; nevertheless, I was not going to wait for him again, so I asked him to marry me. His comment, “Well, it’s about time!” I proceeded to tell him that he still needed to officially ask my father for my hand in marriage and surprise me with a proposal by the end of the month (yes, I can be slightly bossy.) He waited till the last day of the month. We were out in the San Juan Islands. I was sun bathing in the back of the boat and asked him to throw me a towel. When he threw it, a little box rolled out. He then proposed and proclaimed his tender love.
As I walked out of the store recollecting all the cemented memories of our love story, a smile, which had been absent for a long time, suddenly appeared. I exhaled gratitude. How did your love story begin? Please share your favorite memories.
Blessings to You,
Lisa Dempsey Bargewell
Next Wednesday’s blog topic: Unwarranted Guilt
