Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The love of my life...part 3
3 years ago on our wedding day
2 years ago in (Balboa Park) San Diego where Matt was stationed
1 year ago enjoying hot chocolate and giant cookies (= making Stevie dance in the belly) at the mall
Today is our 3rd Anniversary. Wedding Anniversary, that is. We tend to acknowledge many anniversaries in our household (when we met, when we first started talking, when Matt came home from the military the first time and the 2nd time and homecoming of deployment, when we started courting, when we got engaged, when we got married, baby stuff...and on and on). We like to think back on those special days, but no, we do not officially "celebrate" them all. Unfortunately, my husband has to work today (why do anniversaries, birthdays, and fun occasions happen on Wednesdays anyway?), and to top it off, he has a final exam this evening. Oh well. We'll make the most of it, and maybe go out to a movie this weekend. Yes, we are quite the partiers. Spell check does not like that word, partiers. Apparently, it's only found in the Urban Dictionary. I didn't know I was so well versed.
Anyway, yes, it's our 3rd Anniversary. I did not marry a man in a sweater vest. I married a man in dress blues. Because I am supposed to write about such things pertaining to my post titles, I will share a bit about this man and our story (but you may have to come back to hear more). You might want to take a comfy seat...this could get long. If you've already heard it, you may want to skip this entire post (and the next couple) altogether. I met Matt, a young Marine on leave back in May 2005. He came with his brother to our church his last Sunday in town. Let me back up just a bit prior to our meeting. My mom knew of his coming to town...from Matt's brother. There was something about Matt, not even knowing him, that Mom told me, "We need to check this guy out." My mom would not rest looking for a man for me...well, until we found the one. Well, she paid me (it was either $5 or $10...I really needed it for something, being a poor college student and all) to meet him. She totally denies this now, but believe me, it happened. It was the first and last man my mom ever paid me to meet. She must have known he was going to be good! So, she paid me the whatever amount it was to attend our church's Young Adult Bible Study, thinking he would visit since his brother attended. Yes, my mother paid me to go to Bible Study. I would've been a rather regular attender of the group, but I had a class the night it met. This being finals week, schedules were a little jumbled up, and lo and behold I was "free." Well, I took her money and ran...ran far away from meeting the man of my dreams...to study! I might as well have gone to the library for sweater vest man! When my mom found out (later that week maybe) that I did not attend, I had to pay her back. Well, Man of my Dreams, we'll call him Matt, did not go either. It was not meant to be to meet at that time...with payment involved I guess, or something. As far as my mom and I knew, Matt's leave had ended and he had flown back to Hawaii where he was stationed. "Well," I thought, "I think I handled that well. I avoided another one!"
The following Sunday, however, I was getting ready for church. The however part comes later. I was wrestling with my hair. Oh my hair. I never wanted curly hair. I had straight hair as a little girl, and my mom used to curl it while I'd rather spend my time on other things. I'd still rather spend my time doing other things than wrestling with my hair. It's curly, it's frizzy, it's poofy (must be another urban dictionary word)...it's a hairdresser's nightmare. I remember thinking that particular morning, "who cares? It's not like I'm going to meet the Man of my Dreams today or anything." Here comes the however...However, I did!
I was sitting in the front row at church...still up front with my mom, when I noticed Matt's brother walk through the doors and behind him a very tall guy. I immediately panicked-thinking, warm, welcoming thoughts-"Hey, you're supposed to be gone!", but first gave him a quick glance to size up his appearance. He was handsome. Then I panicked. What if this guy knows people are trying to set us up? How awkward is that? What if he thinks I wanted to meet him, which was untrue! I was not a flirt. I never chased after guys. I figured if I chased him...he wasn't man enough for me. I was waiting on the Lord, as patiently as I could, for Him to bring the Man of my Dreams in my life. I wanted a man who pursued me, loved our God, and would love and treat me like a princess of our King.
Well, Matt didn't have any idea of the match-making connections others were trying to make. After church, I stood next to my parents (my dad's the pastor), who stand at the door to catch up with people and say goodbye. I didn't want to be cornered alone if any matchmaking people tried to connect us, so I huddled by my parents. As Matt and his brother left, we were introduced. He passed test #1 and #2 with flying colors. He looked me straight in the eyes and shook my hand firmly. He was super polite, and I thought, genuine. Those things were very important to me. As my mom talked about my "accomplishments," I got a look at what he was wearing, blue jeans, a button-up, blue, plaid, short sleeve shirt....and...and...running shoes. The first time I mentioned this to him, he got defensive. He said he didn't have any other clothes with him to wear that were dressy or whatever. I said, "Noo, your running shoes. They were the same exact shoes my dad had. I knew then. I knew that this could be something." I know it's silly, and probably lots of people owned those shoes. However, the only people I knew who had them were my dad and Matt. I respected my dad a lot. I still do. You know the saying, "you will grow up to marry a man like your father." So, there was something about those shoes...that feeling, that I will never forget.
More to share...
To Go Back to Part 2