Friday, February 16, 2018

Read This

Read this if you believe in true love.

Read this if you believe love to only be fairy tale.


As you wish.

Only a few times in my life have I thought myself to be in love; the first time ended in death.

The second in devastation.

The fleeting few of 2016?  Unrealistic expectations, in hindsight.

One year ago yesterday, I attended my very first Special Olympics basketball game.


Wearing a dress and heels...as that’s what I had worn earlier in the day.

At that moment, the Buckeye was merely a guy I had been on one date with, three weeks prior.  He was taking his time, and quite honestly, he had competition in the form of a very tall deputy Sheriff.  Except the Sheriff was also taking his time...and cancelled on me repeatedly.  

I must be honest and admit that I had forgotten the Buckeye coached Special Olympics, and I thought it odd he had invited me to watch him play basketball.  But the rec center was moments from my apartment, so I figured why not.  Walking in, my memory was instantly refreshed-how could I forget?!-and I sat down delighted, not certain what to expect.


These two have coached several state champion teams...dang, the Buckeye’s hair is so short a year ago...!!!

I loved the game.  

Everyone got to play, and everyone had a blast.  Yes, you got yelled at if you tried for a three-pointer (hahahahahahaha-my take away!)  but as one who had been bullied when I made the “A” team in 5th grade and was terrible in general at most sports thereafter, I was jealous.  This was what sport was supposed to be: fun competition.  It was the first lesson I’d learn from the Buckeye, not from his instruction, but rather by his actions.  He’s coached Special Olympics for 20 years.

After the game he came over to chat; I was identified as a “friend” by him to inquiring athletes.  I found this funny, as three weeks had passed since our fun first date to Supercross, and I had wondered if there would be a second.  He walked me to my car, and as would soon become a habit, placed his hands primly on my hips as he gave me a kiss.  I pulled back laughing, and asked him why I hadn’t seen him in so long, when that (the kiss) was obviously so good.  He said we’d talk about it tomorrow on our second date.

At least I knew then that the chemistry was amazing.


His taste in restaurants, however?

One year ago today, we went on our second date.  Having never been to the Tilted Kilt, I was mildly surprised at the door.  Nonplussed, I correctly assessed he was testing my mettle.  That was the day he threw down his gauntlet...telling me he had little time to date.  Special Olympics was first, he’d decided a few months prior to be a bachelor, and he wouldn’t be pressured.

Sitting at the bar, I remember studying his glass of Scotch before him.  He had just shown me how adding ice or water to it changed it, and I was fascinated.  Every time I met him, I learned something new...and I liked that.  During our discussion he had boldly told me he was a Christian when I asked; a marked departure from the “spiritual but not religious” nonsense I’d heard from many other men.  I loved the fact he was telling me where I stood, and that from his perspective, my position was weak.  


Yeah, well my hand was broken and I climbed this, so...

I told him I was different, and that he shouldn’t see me through the filter of other women.  He snickered.  I felt my hackles rise.  I told him my number one goal in any relationship was simply to bring the other person joy.

I am soooooooo NOT like other women.


He had yet to learn this :)

Standing at his Jeep, after another amazing kiss, I wondered when he, like so many others, would fade away.  Clearly, he didn’t think I was up to his standards.  It was at the moment I thought this, my next thought was, “watch, this could be your next husband.”


But he’s a Buckeye! (That was the next thought.  Really.)

As I drove 40 minutes home (he lived 5 minutes away I’d later learn😜) I pondered that random thought, “he could be my future husband.”  I’d never thought of a man that way on a second date (especially not a Buckeye!) and this struck me as more than random.  I had liked how he’d laid out his expectations; I also liked so many little things about him.  It was easy to talk to him; we seemed to have amazing chemistry in all areas (not just kisses.). Still, he had just warned me to never pressure him, and to let things happen as they did.


Hmmmm....kinda like my decision that in 2017 I would be patient.


Our second selfie, a full three months after the first.  This was right after we had ice cream cones...because rarely do we ever disagree on food, especially treats!  This would be the first time I noticed his blue eyes😍

So by May, I knew I might be falling for him.  The first stirrings happened rather innocently...he sent me this picture:


His Great great great great great grandfather Alexander Foresman’s grave marker in a faraway Ohio cemetery.

As a gift, I had drawn up his genealogy.  A trip home to see his mom (for Mother’s Day) the following weekend had them both traipsing through local cemeteries, searching for their family history.  When he sent this, my first reaction was, “oh! I bet it’s too heavy to upright.”  The next picture?


Bestill my little historian’s heart...

It was that respect that tipped my feelings to love...and he gave me his late father’s dictionary as a gift.


I adore my dictionary!!! I read it everywhere...but especially loved reading it in the orchard.

Yes, I loved him first.  I told him first, too, even after I swore I would not.  Time and time again, I blurted out what I felt...and he listened.

And he fell, too.


In Tombstone, laying our fears to rest.

As summer progressed, we discovered how ridiculously matched we were; concerned, we shared even more our feelings, looking for potential issues.  When it came up that he wondered if I would change in my affections for him as time went on, I assured him that while my number one goal was to bring him joy, my second goal would always be to turn him on.  He laughed, obviously relieved.  Fall came, and I joined Special Olympics as a golf coach, barely knowing how to play the game myself.


The only matching tee shirts you’ll ever see us in!

It was one night after golf we came to blows; he had left without me, so I followed him home.  Sitting at the table, he started the conversation with, “I felt...” and my heart paused.  Not “you made...”  “I felt.”

We didn’t exactly feel the apologies we made...even after I left for Prescott we both mulled it over further.  Three days later when reunited our relationship was different-for the better.  We had moved into agape love...where each of us thought of the other person first.  As things progressed and we flew through difficulties with little fanfare, I noted it was communication that was pouring the foundation.  We had started as friends with honest, frank expectations...and that had simply been built on.  In November, things changed again for me...I knew then I wanted to always be by his side.


His fever spiked to 102° that night...and that’s when I knew.  

Comfort.  That illness, followed quickly by the death of his beloved dog, Mack, had me add a third vow.  I would comfort him...as it brought me deep satisfaction caring for him.  I had done that once before....and I knew if the need arose, I would gladly do it for him.  As we revealed more of our pasts to each other, another vow was added:  to not harm him.  While obvious to most, it needed to be promised.  This is the third and final go round...for both of us.  Failure is not an option should we dare go again...and we want to do it right.  After the holidays, we had one of our rare spats.  As I resigned myself to be patient and not pressure, he called apologizing.  He “needed to get over himself,” and we moved forward with plans.

That weekend we all attended church together for the first time; the Princess was deeply touched by the sermon on living in fear.  Anxiety is something she has battled; I was glad she had found new tools for combatting it with her faith. January was different; many days with kids and friends for extended visits.  As our first anniversary of our first date approached, we decided to relive it.  Dinner at the Yard House, followed by Supercross.


We ordered the same meals as our first date...and shared them, just as we had a year before.  Our waiter thought it super cute, and gave us this:)

Last summer, I left my beloved cottage in Phoenix and moved back to Prescott.  He gave me a ring to wear, reminding me that he loved me.


It’s never not on my right hand.

Loving the ring as I did, I’d often said if he wanted to propose, all he had to do was move it from my right hand to my left...


Which he did, during dinner!


And I happily became a Browns fan for life:)

Quietly, my children and our parents were told as we contemplated eloping....to Scotland, of course.


Because this is our clan castle...yes, we both are descendants of Clan Keith.

What we discovered is an elopement in Scotland required just as much planning as a tiny wedding in Arizona...and the Commander was pretty vocal in attending.  (Manchild says he refuses to wear a kilt, and the Princess is insisting its tasteful.)  

And so as wait for my house to sell (a noted requirement to our marriage, agreed upon by all and this all the more reason I pray for it, as I cannot even set a date until we have a close) we realize we should share our happy news...especially as the Buckeye insisted on replacing my sweet sentimental ring.


A sapphire, chosen because he has blue, blue eyes.

My children know that their mother adores jewelry...and if it’s a heart, a flower, a butterfly or snowflake I’ll surely love it.

Manchild saw a butterfly.

The Princess saw hearts in the “wings.”

The Commander saw a flower.

I see promise.

While I struggle with the house...I am deeply comforted by the promise.  Of knowing I have the support of a man who trusts God.


Winter days outside:)

Remember that sermon on fear, that had blessed the Princess?  While she sat on my left, the Buckeye had sat on my right.  He, too, listened.

He decided to no longer live in fear of a relationship turning sour...and decided then to propose.  Our first anniversary of our first date was perfect...there’s much more to the story but not everything needs to be told😍😉


Truth.

So often, love leads to pain.  Over the last year as we’ve grown as a couple, individually we’ve healed from the past.  Constant communication has given us a firm foundation, as has the fact we became friends long before we fell in love.  As we patiently wait for the next chapter to begin, I am reminded of how wonderful our story has been thus far.

I cannot imagine a better one.



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