Category Archives: Friendship

Young Love (#93)

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RoomiesA special note:

Tomorrow I’ll be boarding a plane to Europe to spend time with my college roommate Julie, who lives in Germany.

 

Six kidsFrom there I’ll head over to England to meet my 12th grandchild, two-week-old Jonathan. I’m eager to catch up with his parents, too – Hans and Katy – and their five other children – Nicholas (8), Evelyn (6), Thomas (6), Andrew (3), and Elizabeth (1).

While I’m gone, I won’t be able to blog, but I’ll resume “Young Love” on March 1st.

See you then!

 

But first the conclusion to yesterday’s post:

September 20-21, 1969

As Mom and I drove the 12 miles from Wilmette to Arlington Heights, I ran through a mental list of all her “girlfriends,” trying to remember the names of everyone who would be at my surprise bridal shower. More than likely it would be her “club” of about a dozen women, and I knew them all.

When I walked in the front door, though, it turned out I didn’t really have to fake being surprised. The room was jammed with women, over 40 of them, three generations of happy faces all yelling, “SURPRISE!” And I was stunned! They had pulled it off after all.

At the showerWe spent the afternoon chatting, playing pencil-paper games with a wedding theme, eating delicious fancy foods, and opening mountains of beautiful gifts. I was speechless and couldn’t wait to report every detail to Nate.

His mother was there (below, center) having driven a long way, and also her two sisters, Nate’s aunts, who I was eager to get to know.

Shower with NateAnd better than everything else was the big surprise I got half way through the afternoon…. when in walked Nate! He had driven the three hours and braved a mob of women, most of whom he didn’t know, simply because he missed me. I was thrilled! And best of all, everybody got to meet my groom ahead of the wedding. It was a perfect afternoon.

After loading up all the “loot” (as Mom called it) and heading back to Wilmette, there was no time to go car-shopping with Dad, but that was alright. Mom volunteered her VW van so we could put the Corvette out of service and work on selling it. And we would plan to return on another weekend to hunt for a car.

When we got back to Champaign, there was a letter waiting from Aunt Joyce. Her words put our weekend of receiving lots of “loot” into the proper perspective. Isn’t it wonderful to be in love and belong to the Lord Jesus Christ? What more could one (“or two”) desire?

From Aunt Joyce

“Walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.” (Ephesians 5:2)

Young Love (#91)

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September 19, 1969

 

A busy womanMom was running around like a crazy woman trying to get everything done at home. Though I didn’t see most of it from my vantage point 156 miles away, her diary has a few blank pages with the words “So rushed!” on them. But she did take time to drop a note in the mail:

“Honey – It must be frustrating trying to plan a wedding from 156 miles away. Let us do all we can from here. It’s fun and it pleasures us. All is well here. Oh how I’d love to tuck you into a clean cozy bed and stand guard through a round-the-clock slumber for you! Just make a list of things you need done, and advise.” (I must have been complaining about being too busy, but compared to her, I was on vacation.)

And right about now Mom signed to have a contractor redo her kitchen. Our wedding was 9 weeks away, but ever the optimist (Dad would say gambler) she said, “It’ll get  done.”

TomAmidst all of this my brother Tom resurfaced from his school in the east, giving Mom another chance to mother him. Because she missed him so much, this was special to her – and she wrote it up in her diary. He’d forgotten to pack a suit coat and needed one a.s.a.p. for a university commitment.

Mom scrambled to think of someone she knew in Washington DC who would agree to deliver some cash to Tom (no credit cards then) so he could buy a jacket. But she succeeded and was thrilled that her “baby” had needed her again.

Our little apartment mailbox often contained inspiring messages, and we were glad others were sharing in our happiness. Aunt Joyce wrote, “All of us here are so excited for you, praying that the Lord will cause you to grow in Him as you establish another Christian beachhead, starting November 29, 1969!” She always had an upbeat way of presenting us with a new challenge.

Though we still didn’t own much and tried to stay out of the stores, one afternoon when I arrived home from work, Nate greeted me holding something behind his back. Grinning ear-to-ear he said, “I got you something!”

He brought his hands around and held up a pretty suede skirt. “On sale!” he said. “And I just had to see my beautiful fiancé in it!”

Suede skirtI was flabbergasted he would buy me such a personal gift and immediately tried it on. Then, getting goofy as we often did in those heady days, I became the model and he the photographer. He was pleased that I was pleased, and as the day ended, we felt closer than ever.

Around midnight every night, though, we took a page out of Cinderella’s story — Nate would head down the stairs and off toward his tiny rented room a mile away. It wasn’t easy kissing him goodbye, but just before he left, it helped to have a prayer time together, followed by the ritual of crossing off one more day on the count-down to our wedding…. when my “prince charming” would no longer have to disappear at midnight.

“Let love be genuine… Hold fast to what is good.” (Romans 12:9)

Young Love (#88)

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September 3-4, 1969

 

Nate on Murphy bed.Nate and I were having fun “playing house” as we arranged and rearranged our few possessions, enjoying every minute. Although we didn’t have a bedroom set, we did have the bed that pulled down from an upright position in the closet. It was made with swoopy metal bands attached to springs that had seen their better day and felt more like a hammock than a bed. But there was nothing wrong with hammocks.

These days of settling into our little home were deeply satisfying for both of us, and we personalized much of what we owned with the wonder of a new invention called Contact paper.

Contact paper.But very soon our days would no longer be our own. School was about to start for both of us, and after that it would be nose-to-the-grindstone.

The Danville school district held an orientation meeting for teachers, and the reality of my upcoming teaching task began to weigh heavily. I needed encouragement, and just at my lowest point, the Lord delivered it.

 

 

Two of the other teachers at the orientation meeting were first-timers, too, both scheduled at McKinley School where I would be teaching, and both in the same distance-predicament I was – living in Champaign and working in Danville.

As we were getting acquainted over the reality of our 80-mile commute, we simultaneously came up with the same thought: Let’s carpool!

JudyLinda

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Judy (left), Linda, and I decided that very day to work out a driving schedule. Judy and I would drive on alternate weeks, and Linda would help with gas. It was a good arrangement and gave all of us a psychological boost.

Linda would be teaching 2nd grade, Judy 6th, and I had 1st. Right away I sensed we would become close buddies and felt a rush of optimism about the coming year. We met our principal that day, along with the other four teachers in our school, and all of us could hardly wait to meet our students.

The district also passed out copies of curriculum for each grade level, and at last I had a map to direct me through the unfamiliar territory of 1st grade.

Driving the 40 miles home, my nervousness about the school year completely melted away. I couldn’t wait to tell Nate all about the day. And something else happened as I drove along on I-74. It occurred to me for the first time how much fun it was going to be to come home to Nate every day. From here on we would be sharing our lives, not just in letters and phone calls and occasional kisses but up close and personal, day to day…. and night to night.

When I finally got home and climbed the stairs to our apartment, Nate was at the door ready to deliver an abundance of those kisses, and I felt an overwhelming whoosh of joy wrapped inside his arms.

Then suddenly he stepped back and said, “And guess what! We just got our first mail!”

Our first mailHe reached into his pocket and pulled out a postcard addressed to “Occupant” at our address…. and our “Apartment 6.” We danced around our newly-rugged living room with a burst of joy, realizing we finally had our very own address, just for the two of us.

But as I drank in the happy, handsome face of my groom, giddy with love for him, a wisp of worry floated across my mind —

With all this freedom and privacy, would we be able to resist each other until our wedding night?

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14)