Newlywed Love (#78)

July 17-18, 1970

By the end of the week, both Nate and I were ready for a break from studies. We invited Cathy and John over for 11:00 PM ice cream sundaes and talked into the night – because they came bringing bad news.

John.John’s draft number was getting close, which wouldn’t have been a problem with his law school deferment. But he very much wanted to quit school.

Worse than that, though, was the news that John might be going blind. They’d just learned this from an eye doctor and were still reeling. John hoped the Army would give him a 1-A deferment – after which he would quit school.

The whole conversation was depressing, and since neither Cathy nor John had any spiritual underpinnings, they felt hopeless. Our best encouragement didn’t seem to help.

When Nate and I fell into bed after 2:30 AM, we held each other close and voiced our hope that these good friends would be OK and that they’d one day connect with Jesus Christ… the Giver of hope. This was our first peer-experience with a major health crisis, and it felt awful.

Mom and Dad and fondue.Saturday was much brighter, because Mom and Dad were coming – and  bringing our beloved Baron! We prepared the fondue dinner they’d requested and when they walked in, we couldn’t believe how much Baron had grown in just two weeks. Nate kissed him right on the mouth!

Mom told us that several families had asked if Baron was available for adoption. His cooperative, friendly demeanor delighted many, so Mom asked our opinion. We said absolutely not, and wisely, that’s what she’d told the others.

Allerton PkNate and I spent the night on the Murphy bed, giving Mom and Dad our room, and on Saturday morning we satisfied another parental request – a visit to Allerton Park. They’d heard us rave about it but had never been there.

 

 

 

 

Nate and DadAt one point Dad said he wanted to talk to Nate, so those two went one direction while Mom and I chased after Baron.

The 3 of them left in late afternoon, headed for yet another commitment in the Chicago area. After we waved them off, I couldn’t wait to get the details on what Dad had  talked to Nate about.

It turned out to be our poisonous Mustang.

We had continued driving it through the summer, leaving the windows down to prevent headaches. But Dad was concerned since a cooler season was coming.

“If you can sell the Mustang for a reasonable price, we can put something together without too much trouble,” he said.  “I’d like to see you in a new car for a change. But it would have to be cheaper and smaller than the cars you’ve had.”

Model A-Dad believed used cars weren’t reliable and since buying his first vehicle (a Model A Ford in the 1920’s), he’d always bought new.

By Monday morning, Nate and I had put an ad in the local paper, knowing it would be illegal not to disclose the toxic nature of our car. We priced it realistically and were flying high at the prospect of new wheels!

But our thoughts were heavy, too… because of Cathy and John.

“Lord, you know the hopes of the helpless. Surely you will hear their cries and comfort them.” (Psalm 10:17)

Newlywed Love (#59)

May 6, 1970

As Nate and I looked forward to celebrating our 6 month anniversary, we were excited about celebrating something else, too. Since January, I had been steadily writing thank-you notes for wedding gifts —  and had only 3 more to go. Unfortunately, all 3 had become separated from the names of their givers, and I didn’t know who to thank.

Gift recordIn a letter to Mom, I described these orphan-gifts, none of them written in our blue record book, hoping she could help me solve the mystery. Amazingly, she remembered two of them, having had conversations with both givers before they made their purchases. But neither of us could figure out the third.

I felt terrible. It was bad enough people had waited so long for our acknowledgment, but never to hear from us? That was unacceptable.

Mom and I talked it over – again and again. Sometimes I woke during the night wondering who it was we were neglecting to thank. But after we’d explored all possible avenues of discovery, Mom challenged me to let it go. With her characteristic optimism she insisted the answer would come eventually.

Mystery giftThe stray gift was a three-section serving dish – carved out of monkey pod wood. For some reason Nate found that fascinating (and humorous), calling it “the perfect conclusion” to my long thank-you project. When I brought out the dish and put it in his hands, he laughed so hard he had to take out his hankie and wipe his eyes. Something about monkey pod wood just tickled his fancy.

When I told Mom I “wouldn’t rest” till I’d solved the mystery, she said she wasn’t as concerned about that as about something else that was greatly bothering her — and it had nothing to do with thank-you notes or monkey pod wood.

Vietnam protestors carrying anti-war signs during march from dowtown Market Street to Golden Gate Park's Kezar Stadium for rally called "Spring Mobilization to End the War in Vietnam".

She and Dad had been watching the nightly news as a fresh round of riots had broken out on the University of Illinois campus. Four unarmed students had been killed on the Kent State campus while demonstrating against the Vietnam War. In response, riots broke out on many university campuses, the U. of IL included.

Mom and Dad were concerned for their new son-in-law, knowing he was on campus every day. After watching the National Guard invade the campus once again, Mom wrote:

The violence at the U. of I. disturbs us. We know you are too sensible to become involved to endangerment.

But it was more than just that:

We Christians must rise to stand in our faith. Jesus Christ is the only answer to society’s dilemma. How now to communicate that? Youth longs for truth. If parents cannot reveal truth, and the church fails in her appointed task, how can the young be blamed?

I had a hunch that if Mom lived in Champaign, she’d be on that campus every night, walking among the rioters, using kindness to urge them toward peace. She would also look them in the eyes and listen carefully to their complaints. She loved kids, and they loved her – always. And in her mind, college student were kids.

She wrote further:

The poor students – those who are sincerely seeking education like our Nate. If students can’t learn and practice law, to what end will criminals go?

Mom was right. Her thoughts about kids longing for truth were more important than my angst over an anonymous gift – of monkey pod wood.

“It is wrong to say…. the Almighty isn’t concerned…. He will bring justice if you will only wait. (Job 35:13-14)

Newlywed Love (#24)

January 24-25, 1970

I had to hand it to Dad. Although he was born in 1899 and was two whole generations older than his children, he made every effort to understand them.

DadDad and I had a rocky relation- ship during my dating years, mostly about curfews and my choice of suitors. (It’s a wonder he didn’t kick me out of the house.) But beneath all that friction, I loved my father deeply and knew beyond all doubt he loved me, too. If I had a problem, I went to him first. Mom was always busy packing 48 hours of activity into 24, so slowing her down long enough for a serious talk wasn’t easy.

 

Dad, however, seemed to have time. If I presented a problem and asked his opinion, he didn’t shoot from the hip but gave careful thought to his answer. Even during the years when I was his problem child, he never brought up past skirmishes or held them against me.

And Dad never made sweeping judgments or labeled me – as “an irresponsible person” or “someone unable to make good decisions,” even when those things were true. And he never once pointed out the difficulty I was causing him. No matter what happened between us, he faithfully hoped for the best about me.

When Nate and I needed a second car (and need was the operative word), he wholeheartedly volunteered to help…. not just with the shopping but with finances, too.

A loving fatherHe believed in the value of education and was proud of his new son-in-law for pursuing a law degree, despite Nate’s temporary inability to provide financially for his wife. And Dad saw that facilitating a second car would be both an encouragement and a help.

After my Friday evaluation day at McKinley School, I packed a small bag, and Nate took me to the train station. Not satisfied with just waving goodbye, he came on the train with me, making sure I was seated in a safe place and then lifting my bag to the high rack. It was hard for both of us to say goodbye, but the delicious kisses helped.

The Illinois Central took me from Champaign to Chicago, and the subway from the Loop to the city’s northern border. From there I took the “L” train to Wilmette, where Dad was waiting at the end of the line. We walked into the house around 11:00 PM and found Mom happily preparing root beer floats to go with her cheerful welcome.

While enjoying our treat, Dad and I circled several used car ads in the Yellow Pages and mapped out a route for the next day. And when my head hit the pillow, my thoughts were of convertibles and four-on-the-floor.

The following morning Dad and I set off in a blizzard with high hopes. And sure enough, after slogging through heavy slush and brushing snow off scores of cars to see them better, we chose one:

Mustang.An all-black 1965 Mustang with red leather interior! (example, right)

 

 

It was 5 years old but had low miles, and both Dad and I were pleased. I knew Nate would like its classy good looks, and my driving buddies would be happy not to have any more carpool emergencies — like when it was my turn to drive but Nate needed his car.

I couldn’t wait to show my husband! It wasn’t a convertible like my first two cars, but it definitely had some “cool.”

“Seek [the Lord’s] will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:6)