Category Archives: Saying Goodbye

Young Love (#132)

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November 29, 1969… 6:00 PM

As my bridesmaids and I gathered at the door of the ladies lounge waiting for our cue to move to the back of the sanctuary, we heard the organ sound six distinct bells, indicating it was 6:00 and the ceremony was beginning. Though we couldn’t see from where we were, we knew the candle-lighters were moving down the double aisles with their tapers, lighting candles.

I glanced one last time at the card I was holding in my hand – the vows I would make to Nate – and realized I hadn’t really memorized them yet. But just then Helen appeared. “OK, girls. Time to go.” The bridesmaids, flower girl, ring bearer, and I paraded out behind her, single file like ducklings following their mother.

As we giggled with excitement, Helen put her finger to her lips. “Shhh!”

KenTomWe got to the back of the church in time to see Nate’s parents being seated by his brother Ken (L) and Mom heading down the aisle on Tom’s arm. (R)

 

Beautiful chamber music from a professional string group was softly playing at the front of the church (making me wish I hadn’t quit violin lessons in 8th grade). Their sound was heart-stirring and set the perfect mood.

Connie came around the corner with Dad in tow, directing him to stand near me. But before that, the photographer lined us up for one last picture before we went in.

Bridesmaids

The men, looking spectacular in their cut-away tuxes, were already in place at the front, though they were so far away, I could hardly tell who was who. But I knew Nate was at the bottom of the steps, ready to receive me, and I wished I could run down the aisle and throw myself into his arms.

But one by one Helen and Connie signaled each bridesmaid to start, reminding them to walk slowly. What a thrill to watch this procession of my 7 dearest friends, each one representing a particular time in my life. I had the sense that the 8 of us would never be together like this again… which made the moment even more significant.

Little onesAnd then it was time for our little ones to go, and Connie gave them a pep talk, telling them not to rush. “But,” said Brittney, “how many pieces of flower should I put on the floor?”

We told her to do whatever she wanted with the rose petals. She could drop them one by one as she walked or dump them all out together when she got there. It was up to her.

Timmy proudly carried his pillow with its dime store rings, his coat tails swinging back and forth as he walked. By the time they reached the front, they looked so small in that massive room they almost disappeared.

And then it was our turn – Dad and me. I looked at him and was overwhelmed with how much I loved him.

Father and daughterHe had put up with a great deal to get me raised (I hadn’t been the obliging daughter Mary had), and now he’d blessed me with the wedding I’d wanted. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and felt like crying.

But the tum-tum-de-dum of the organ’s wedding march sounded, our signal to start, so I looped my arm through Dad’s and hung on tight. And then, what is true for every bride became true for me. During the slow and deliberate walk down the aisle, my strong bond with Dad began to loosen. By the time he had escorted me to the front, my heart had made a seismic shift.

And it wasn’t difficult to let go of him and grab onto Nate – who was about to become my main man.

Sanctuary

“Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us.” (Psalm 90:17)

Young Love (#118)

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November 20-21, 1969

Very soon my apartment was going to become our official first home as a married couple. Although Nate and I had accumulated several cast-off furniture items, most of the space remained empty. After 4 bridal showers, we had lots of china, crystal, and silver but no place to put it. For the most part, it was still in boxes.

IMG_5339My long-term friend Lynn offered to come and help make things home-ier for us. She and I had met at Moody Church when we were both in junior high school, when her parents had come to run the music ministry.

Lynn and I clicked right away, but our homes were separated by two suburbs – which meant we didn’t see each other during the week. Since phoning friends was frowned upon, we did most of our talking in the back rows during Sunday school and church.

IMG_5343When the weekends came, we pleaded for sleep-overs until our mothers finally chose a gas station half-way between our two homes where we made the girl-transfers. Our friendship grew quickly after that. (Left: pea-shooting at cars.)

We tried cigarettes together, had our first taste of alcohol together, dated brothers together, and snuck out of our homes during the night together. We got into trouble at camp together, dyed our hair orange together, hosted parties together when our parents were out of town…. and also taught Sunday school together. Our shared history was rich.

Lynn was full of artistic ideas. Over the years she taught me to knit sweaters, sometimes with such complicated patterns we’d be using five different colored yarns at once. She could also sew up a storm and taught me to make simple skirts and jumpers. Lynn was a whiz in the kitchen, too, and showed me how to make teriyaki chicken, among other things.

I knew that if she put her creative touches on our apartment, it would take on the warmth it lacked.

FullSizeRender(3)When she arrived, she’d brought a gizmo that made flowers out of yarn or string, and went to work using our 3 colors: orange, yellow, and kiwi green. Nate and I both loved the results. She also showed me how to arrange books and knick-knacks on our shelves in artistic ways and even initiated washing windows and hanging curtains.

Lynn was going to be one of my bridesmaids and was doing more than her fair share by sewing 3 of the gowns. But she was a pro at multi-tasking and was managing well, despite a full school schedule and a job. I was appreciative beyond words.

IMG_5344Our time working at the apartment was full of laughter and love – two old friends who had been through a decade of adventures together that had moved them from middle school to marriage. (Lynn’s wedding would be the following year.)

All this reminded me of how much I’d missed girl-time with her and other buddies back home. But stepping into marriage meant stepping out of that old life. Walking down the aisle was saying yes to radical change in every area. Was I ready?

As Nate and I stood holding hands while waving goodbye to one of my dearest friends, I had the feeling everything was going to turn out just fine.

“If anything is excellent or praiseworthy…. think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

Young Love (#115)

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November 15-16, 1969

It was the weekend – before the last weekend – before our wedding weekend! No one was happier about that than Nate and I.

I wondered how Mom’s kitchen renovation was coming along and whether or not she’d had a chance to shop for her own gown. But her diary tells the tale:

IMG_5271“Seeing is believing! Im- possible to visualize our home with a wedding soon!! Soup under piano! Refrig in living room! etc! etc!

A day later she mentioned a friend coming to help her. She wrote, I think she pities me.

But her letters to Champaign continued to be upbeat, one of them written during church while listening to a sermon by George Sweeting:

Pastor Sweeting is elaborating on the financial monopoly as revealed in Rev. 13. The older I grow – and I’ve been around too long already – the more I recognize the sheer anchor of all authority – the Bible. The Author of this Book is my Friend, and His Spirit explains His writings. Pretty good, eh?

IMG_5232At the end of the letter she said she’d heard every word of the sermon and invited me to quiz her sometime. No matter how hard Mom worked or how little sleep she got, she never lost her vitality. She must have been experiencing tremendous pressure, but she never let it show.

As for Nate and I, we joyfully prepared for our first Champaign visit from Mary and Bervin. Nate volunteered to get the groceries while I did the cleaning. After two hours when he hadn’t returned, I began to worry. But when he finally came in, he was all excited.

“Guess what!” And he held up $25 in cash, the equivalent of $150 today. For a couple that was always penny-pinching and was still short, I was flabbergasted.

“Where’d that come from?”

“The Carle Clinic,” he said. “They gave it to me for giving blood!”

Apparently he had answered an ad on the grocery store bulletin board. But despite a blood loss, he seemed hale and hearty, so I had to agree it was a great idea. “Now,” he said,  “we can go to a movie with Mary and Bervin or even out to eat if you want!” That $25 was a fortune to us, and I made a mental note to get over to the clinic myself, as soon as I could.

Bervin and Mary visitWelcoming Mary and Bervin to our little nest was extremely satisfying. Even though we’d been bumping into them in Wilmette now and then, since I moved to Champaign I’d missed my sister a great deal. She and I had been best-buds since toddlerhood, and more than that, she was my #1 confidant and advice-giver. It had been hard to be far apart for long stretches of time.

As the four of us drove around Champaign, the University of Illinois, and Allerton Park, Mary and I huddled in the back seat sharing secrets. I was about to step from singleness into marriage, and what better time to glean wisdom than from a marriage veteran of two years. It was a delightful weekend and flew by all too fast.

On Sunday evening as Nate and I stood on the front steps of our apartment building waving goodbye, my heart started to hurt. I wondered how many years Mary and I would be separated by distance. But the sadness was softened a bit by knowing she and I would soon be sharing a new kind of togetherness…. as wives.

” (Mary’s) ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.” (my version of Proverbs 3:17)