Newlywed Love (#90)

August 20-21, 1970

 

SURPRISELynn was adorable at her bridal shower. We caught her completely off guard, which met the highest expectations for our surprise party.

She loved our entertainment, the “This is your Life” tape complete with tales of her past and a few surprise guests. Mom had pulled out her best dishes and silver, and Lynn’s bridesmaids had shared in her work.

GiftsLynn unwrapped a mountain of goodies, and the whole event was pure pleasure. The only negative, mine alone, was having had to leave Nate… again. With the newspaper route and his difficult law school class, that had been our only choice.

The 24-hour separation was difficult, and I looked forward to the upcoming school year with its regular routine. My hope was that the second year in our Champaign “nest” would be as blessed as the first.

A year earlier in August of 1969, our apartment had looked far different. Footsteps and voices had echoed in the empty space, and stale paint had covered the walls. We’d done the work of transforming it from a drab place to a warm home, and now the whole space reflected the happy relationship unfolding inside.

As I drove the familiar route from Wilmette to Champaign knowing Nate was waiting for me, I was filled with a sense of contentment. There wasn’t one thing I would change about our lives together.

Nate greeted me with a long-stemmed red rose. “I missed you so much,” he said, handing me the pretty flower and nuzzling my neck. The feeling was definitely mutual.

Just arrivingWe still had one more special event before summer officially ended – a visit from Florida friends Carole and Reggie. Carole and I had much in common. We met at Wheaton College and both ended up teaching school in Chicago. Her city apartment had been near mine back then, and we both attended the singles ministry at Moody Church. Our two romances had heated up simultaneously, and both couples married in the fall of 1969.

Carole had a gorgeous singing voice and often soloed in church and at weddings. Now they were driving from Florida to (of all places) Danville, Illinois, for her to sing at another wedding. We were thrilled when they said they could spend a night with us.

HemmingWithin a couple of hours of my arrival back from Wilmette, they and we were settled around our dining table sharing stories of married life and love. After dinner, Carole worked on hemming the dress she would wear at the wedding, and the boys adjourned for sleep. She and I talked well into the night, almost till morning — 4:00 AM! Close friends never run out of things to say.

Not long after breakfast, though, Nate and I were giving and getting goodbye hugs on the street in front of our building — yet another farewell.

Saying goodbyeAfter waving them off, we sat on the porch steps in the morning sunshine talking about the multiple changes of the previous year, acknowledging there were more to come. We and most of our friends were in a phase of life that required continual change and included lots of goodbyes.

As we climbed back up the stairs hand-in-hand, we wondered aloud how long that phase was going to last.
“If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter… he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go.” (Psalm 91:9, 11)

Newlywed Love (#90)

August 17-19, 1970

 

LynnMy friend Lynn’s bridesmaids and I were planning a bridal shower for her, and my Mom, the tireless entertainer, was delighted to host it at her house. Since we’d waited so long to get organized, invitations had to be made by phone. Nevertheless, we’d gotten an enthusiastic response — and planned to make it a surprise party!

We bridesmaids were putting together a “This is Your Life” presentation on cassette tape, and my part was doing the only thing that could be done from hundreds of miles away: writing the script. It was my favorite kind of job.

Meanwhile, Nate’s parents were on the way to our apartment to celebrate their firstborn’s birthday. I was nervous about making all the meals during their visit, since Lois was such an excellent cook. Although I’d spent time with Nate’s folks on multiple occasions, I still felt I needed to win their approval. My dear husband insisted they already approved, but I wasn’t so sure.

Nate’s brother Ken couldn’t come due to work conflicts, a disappointment to both of us. On the positive side, though, Ken had told us he’d been accepted at the U. of Illinois for the fall semester, so we’d be getting to see much more of him in the near future.

Happy birthdayThe birthday party for just the 4 of us was a quiet but meaningful celebration, and Nate ended up with 3 cakes – the one I made, the one Lois brought, and the one our downstairs neighbors (Fred and Alice) sent up.

This elderly couple had loaned us the saw to dismantle our first Christmas tree, and though we weren’t together often, we took time to enjoy them whenever any of us crossed paths. Nate and I were flattered by their thoughtful gesture. Sadly, neither was able to climb the steps to join our little party.

Nate opened his few gifts, and turning 25 ended up to be the magic number for phenomenal birthday presents… first the Fiat, and then, from Nate’s folks, the rest of our registered china. In 1969 the protocol was to register a china pattern that wedding guests would give plate-by-plate, bowl-by-bowl, cup-by-cup.

When we counted up after the wedding, we had a generous assortment of dishes but very few complete place settings.

Reading of their giftThis birthday gift, to both of us, would fill in the blanks – and give us 12 of everything: dinner plates, salad plates, bread plates, berry bowls, etc.

Nate read the card about their plan and then handed it to me. Both of us were flabbergasted… and elated! We had anticipated many years going by before being able to afford the rest of the set.

Our two days with Lois and Willard passed happily as we explored the local shopping mall together, took in a movie (The Sundance Kid), and gave rides in the Fiat.

Fiat rides.Neither of us was sure what Lois and Willard thought of our “tiny foreign car,” as they called it, but they didn’t criticize. Nate did say his mother gripped the dashboard with both hands the entire time they were out driving —  much like someone on a frightening roller coaster at an amusement park.

 

They departed after our second dinner together, and Nate immediately dug into his books while I went to work on Lynn’s shower. We were expecting over 30 guests (the very next day), and there was much to do.

“God says… giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors Me.” (Psalm 50:22)

Newlywed Love (#89)

August 17-19, 1970

I couldn’t understand why I’d been stopped by a policeman on my way back to Champaign in the Fiat. Had I been going slower than the law allowed? Had the temporary cardboard license plate blown away? Were my bare feet a problem?

Bare feetAs soon as the officer saw them, he said something. “What’s this? No shoes?”

“Well,” I said, scrambling for the right words, “you know… uh… it’s summer.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And it’s warm out.”

Resting his flashlight on the edge of my low-to-the-ground car, he stood and looked down at me. I could tell he was trying to decide what to do. “Do you have papers for  this car?”

Glove compartmentFumbling to open an unfamiliar glove compartment, I finally pulled out the folder our salesman had given us – and was glad the officer had asked for it. It proved I was telling the truth.

 

“OK,” he said, pausing for effect. First of all, that business about driving slow with a new car? I don’t know who told you that, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Second, haven’t you been told that driving without shoes is dangerous? If you need to make a fast stop by jamming on the brake, you might only catch it with a toe or two – and that wouldn’t be enough.”

The way he said it was funny, and I chuckled a little. “Sorry,” I said. “You’re right.”

“Well, there’s no law against barefoot driving, but it’s just not smart. Put your shoes on.”

I quickly reached to the other bucket seat and grabbed my sandals, sliding them on.

“Also, it’s dangerous going so slow on a country road like this. Speed up a little.” I could honestly say I’d never heard a cop tell me to drive faster.

He walked back to his car without asking for my license, so I assumed I was off the hook. After waiting a minute or two, I pulled back onto the road. He continued following me for a few miles, but I’d obeyed his orders – shoes on, going 55 mph. Eventually he went around me and disappeared into the night.

At the topThe combination of slow driving and time spent with the law brought me to our apartment building well after midnight. Leaving our colossal birthday gift at the curb, I climbed the stairs and found Nate waiting at the top for me.

After enjoying lots of hugs and kisses I said, “Hey, can you come downstairs for a minute? I want to show you something.”

Though he questioned me on the way down, I just said, “You’ll see.” Skipping up to the Fiat, I put my hand on its shiny hood. “Meet our new car!”

His face was priceless – complete bewilderment.

Car hood“It’s ours! Really! Dad bought it for our birthdays!”

“What? Really? You’re kidding. Gosh! Really?”

Handing him the keys I said, “C’mon. Let’s go.” He drove all over town while I told the story, including my adventure on route 57.

Nate couldn’t get over Dad’s generosity and said he would thank him in a well thought-out letter. Never had either of us had such a luxurious gift, and as we slid under the covers that night, our prayer time overflowed with gratitude.

“Enter his gates with thanksgiving… Give thanks to him and praise his name.” (Psalm 100:4)