Category Archives: Life’s disappointments

Newlywed Love (#94)

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September 1-4, 1970

The day after Nate’s newspaper meltdown, he was clear-headed and had his decision. He would quit the route. Although both of us had been taught not to be quitters, we agreed that this time it was a case of cutting our losses.

I went off to my first full day with the kindergarteners knowing that by the time I returned, a heavy burden would have been lifted from my husband’s worn out shoulders. And when I did come home, tired but content, he greeted me at the door – with a “thank-you-hydrangea.”

Hydrangea --Over and over he thanked me for being supportive of his decision to quit, saying he hoped I didn’t think less of him for it. But I told him that in my deepest heart, I knew it was the right thing to do and was proud of him for facing it head-on.

His boss hadn’t made it easy, but he had accepted Nate’s resignation, telling him he’d seen it coming. Then he reiterated his threat about the bond card.

“I’ll pay the money for sure,” Nate said. And we both knew he would.

Now Nate was eager to catch up on his Estate Planning course without the paper route hanging over him. Concentrated studying never looked so good.

Studying. The law school trimester system scheduled the fall term to begin in late September, so the heaviest part of his summer class was just ahead – lengthy papers and a complicated “memo,” Parts I, II, and III.

“I’ll type it all for you,” I said, wanting to help. “Maybe I can learn something.” With all the legalese in his papers, however, that was doubtful.

The week passed happily as we adjusted to a less-stressed life, and I got back into the rhythm of an 80 mile commute. I was figuring out who-was-who among my adorable students and treasured my time with them so much I would have taught them for free – had we not needed the money.

With my regular paycheck, though, we could chip away at the $170 debt and show good faith to both sets of parents by starting paybacks to them, too. We planned to drive to Wilmette over Labor Day weekend to help our friends Lynn and Don get married, and would also get to catch up with family… including Baron!

Earlier in the week Nate had secured permission to borrow four Army swords for the wedding arch, and by Thursday his pressed uniform was hanging in the bedroom, all set to go. My pseudo-military gown was ready, too, hanging at Lynn’s house, where we had stitched it together.

Nate's uniformAfter dinner on Thursday we were packing when I surprised Nate by coming out of the bedroom in his Army coat. I knew he would love it, and he did, asking me to pose for a picture.

I also knew he’d want to quickly take it off and get it safely back on the hanger… which is why I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Who knew packing could be so much fun?

“Let your wife be a fountain of blessing for you.” (Proverbs 5:18)

Newlywed Love (#93)

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August 31, 1970

 

After an exhilarating first day with my kindergarteners, I was unprepared for what I found when I walked into the apartment. Nate was on the phone in a highly stressed conversation. The discussion was heated, and I couldn’t figure out who might be on the line with him.

He nodded at me when I came in, but his expression of anger didn’t change. As I put my things down, he said, “But you can’t do that! It just isn’t fair!” I knew he must be talking to someone connected with his paper route, probably a disgruntled, non-paying customer.

ComplainingSince the very beginning Nate had received several phone calls a day, each with a complaint. “My paper was damp.” Or, “My paper fell from the delivery tube.” Or, “Why can’t you deliver the paper to my porch?”

The complaints never stopped, but worse than that, after many weeks of faithful, timely deliveries, Nate had earned precious little money.

 

As he continued on the phone, I walked up behind him and put my arms around his waist – always magical for us both. But today it didn’t work. As the conversation ended, he banged down the phone and turned around.

“A customer?” I said, stepping back.

“Boss-man.”

“About what?”

Once again Nate was behind in paying the Courier office for his newspapers since so many customers didn’t pay him. The money from paid accounts went toward our bills, but that meant falling behind with the office. And this time his boss made a threat.

$170.00“You owe us $170, buddy, [$1100 today] and if you don’t pay up, we’re going to take bond card action on you.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but whatever it was, it made Nate furious. “If they pull a stunt like that,” he said, “it could prevent me from joining the Bar Association or something worse, down the road.”

It was shocking to hear they had that kind of power over him when nothing his boss had promised about the job had come to be. “I just want to quit,” he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Upset“Well,” I said, “I’ll make some coffee, and let’s talk about it. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

He told me he’d tried to give blood again for the $25, but the clinic had turned him down, saying they had a full supply at the moment. That meant I couldn’t give either.

As we talked we focused on the question of quitting and decided to wait a day or two before deciding. That night I wrote about it in my journal:

I don’t know whether to encourage and urge enthusiasm to forge ahead, or to sympathize and urge to quit and “not think about it.” I wonder about all of this.

The journal

Nate didn’t eat much dinner and was up and down all night stressing about how to end the nightmare. Watching him suffer convinced me he should give notice and quit – though we’d still have to find a way to pay the $170.

“My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; days of affliction come to meet me.” (Job 30:27)

Newlywed Love (#88)

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August 12, 1970

 

Behind the wheel of our brand new Fiat, I set out for Champaign by 8:00 PM and couldn’t wait for Nate’s expression when he saw me driving something other than the Mustang. So I called him before I left, to be sure he would wait up for me. “I should be home around 11:00,” I said, not saying a word about our phenomenal gift.

With the convertible top down on this warm summer evening, I set the radio to my favorite music station and looked forward to 3 hours of get-acquainted time with the car.

Car radio.

Heading toward route 57, I remembered something Dad had said years earlier. “A new car shouldn’t do any high speed driving till after the first 100 miles.” I wondered if that was still true with the modern cars of 1970. Just in case, though, I decided to follow that advice.

Driving at about 40 miles per hour, I watched one car after another go around me and hoped I wouldn’t be rear-ended by someone not paying attention.

Police light.The miles clocked by without incident, though, until I saw a flashing light in the rear view mirror. Hoping it would roar past in pursuit of someone else, I was disappointed when the light stayed on and slowed to 40 mph – staying right behind me.

Pulling off to the shoulder, I couldn’t imagine what I’d done wrong. Surely he couldn’t pinch me for going too slow. Route 57 wasn’t even a super-highway, so people didn’t have to go fast.

Normally I would have gotten out of the car to greet the policeman when he came toward me, but I’d been driving without shoes and had a vague memory that barefoot was illegal.

The officer’s first words were, “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

I assumed he was joking but didn’t want to chance it, so gave him a serious answer. “I’m driving home… to Champaign.”

“At a snail’s pace?”

“Well… this car is brand new, and I don’t want to hurt it. I think I’m supposed to drive slow for the first 100 miles.”

“Is that so?” he said, taking a flashlight from his belt. He leaned toward my dashboard to check the odometer – 73 miles.

Bare feet“I’m almost to 100,” I said, hoping he’d commend me for being so careful. But as he pulled his flashlight back, its beam crossed over my toes.

“What’s this?” he said. “No shoes?”

“I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?” (Psalm 56:4)