Newlywed Love (#51)

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April 9, 1970

Our buildingThese newlywed days were very special for Nate and me. Both of us realized it was a unique year, one we wanted to fully appreciate as we moved through it.

We planned to live in our apartment until the summer of 1971 (more than a year away).  But during that year, many life-directing decisions would have to be made, and we sensed that as we left Champaign, our blissful bubble might burst. Life might continue to be good, we reasoned, but how could it be THIS good?

Living roomNo matter where we would end up after law school, though, we were sure our little home on the 3rd floor of 620 W. Healey Street would always be a precious part of our history.

It was August of 1969 when we first began feathering the nest there. I had moved in after leaving Chicago, bringing very little with me. But 4 months later, a pile of wedding gifts had changed all that, and suddenly we owned all kinds of things.

Now, 4 additional months later, several furniture contributions were coming our way. Aunt Agnes was donating some of her things, and my folks were cleaning out their basement. The youth pastor was moving and blessing us with more.

As different items arrived, I found myself more and more interested in making our home attractive. Even though rearranging furniture wasn’t Nate’s forte’, he was appreciative of my efforts and was glad we actually had furniture to move around.

Living rmAfter the big things had found their places, I splurged on a few candles and some fake flowers. My 1st graders supplied wall art, and I made a giant wall hanging with glue and pom-poms (right). Winding thread around nails in geometric patterns gave us other things to hang, along with favorite photos. When we were done, the whole place looked homey.

Both of us loved returning to our little nest each day, and it was sad to think we might only be there one more year. Whenever moving day finally did come, we knew it would be a struggle to say goodbye.

The kitchenThat’s why, after everything was set up to our liking, we decided to take a roll of pictures, wanting never to forget the details of this special place and our first year of marriage.

 

 

 

 

Small photo albumThe picture-taking process was a lark. Many of the photos we took that night were not of our apartment but of each other, some of them slightly inappropriate for public viewing. But we hoped to have enough appropriate pictures to fill a small album.

After we ran out of film, Nate set the camera aside, picked me up, and spun me around. When he stopped, his face wore a solemn expression. He locked eyes with me, and I wondered what he was going to say.

“You know something? You’re really nice.” He was looking at me as if he’d just met me, right then.

Precious days indeed….

“You are precious to me. You are honored, and I love you.” (Isaiah 43:4)

Newlywed Love (#50)

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April 7, 1970

Mom wrote to us about once a week. These days she was using carbon paper to type 3 copies simultaneously, sending one to Tom in Washington DC, one to Mary and Bervin in Chicago, and one to Nate and me. Although Mary and Bervin got together with the folks regularly, Mom didn’t want them to miss her letters.

She sometimes waxed eloquent and frequently taught spiritual principles she didn’t want any of us to forget. In this week’s correspondence, Mom had chosen to write about the blessing of family, particularly her 3 kids.

Here, there and everywhere around 1140 [their address] are bits of evidence of Mary, Margaret, and Thomas, each here to warm the cockles of our hearts (whatever they are!) and to bless us with precious memories. You are such wonderful children. The only explanation for each of you is God’s goodness, plus your great, great father. As I’ve said before, we couldn’t have all the children in the world, so we just had the best!

Mom raves

Mom had married late for brides of 1941, at the ripe old age of 28. Although she had always been the life of every party, she was the last of her friends to marry. Maybe young suitors wondered if they could handle her spirited personality.

Mom loves DadThen along came Dad, 13 years older, stable and steady, and she was the one he wanted. Mom never got over her good fortune in his choosing her, and she let him know it every single day of their 50 years married – running to him with hugs, kisses, and wild squeals of delight every time he walked in the door.

Her dream was to have a house full of children, but after having Mary and I, her #3 was a miscarriage that became life-threatening when she hemorrhaged. She lost enough blood to make survival doubtful.

But Mom had a determination to live, and after massive set-backs that landed her at Mayo Clinic for months, in the end she came through just fine. Her desire for a dozen children, however, was not to be. “No more babies,” her doctor said. “You could die.”

There was no such thing as birth control in the 1940’s, but Dad wisely determined they would comply with the doctor’s orders. He began keeping a calendar of her cycle himself, not trusting Mom — with her passion for children and penchant for taking chances.

Dad’s system worked well for 4 years, but then, quite unexpectedly, news came of a 3rd pregnancy. This put Mom in heaven and Dad into the depths of worry. Though Mom never admitted to tricking him, we were all sure she did. If so, she did it ingeniously, giving birth to Tom on Dad’s 50th birthday.

At the beach.Dad was relieved that Mom had made it through her pregnancy without incident, and of course he adored his little boy. And Mom? She graciously accepted that this bonus baby had completed her family. Maybe that’s why she frequently made reference to having “not all the children in the world, just the best.”

As for Mary, Tom and I, any way we looked at it, one thing was certain: we’d grown up immersed in love – and also the responsibility to pass it on.

“Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another.” (Romans 13:8)

Newlywed Love (#49)

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April 4, 1970

Once we flipped the wall calendar from March to April, summer seemed almost on top of us. Both of us needed to find summer jobs to help with tuition payments, and our savings badly needed a boost.

Logo

Nate’s work doing taxes for H & R Block had been a gift from God, paying well and allowing us to catch up a bit financially. But in less than two weeks that job would disappear, and we’d be back to living on my slim teaching salary — with nothing coming in all summer.

 

WaitressingSince I had several months of waitressing experience, I figured I could get a serving job without too much difficulty, and Nate said he was willing to do almost anything. He also hoped to take a couple of law classes over the summer to lighten his fall load, so he could continue working through his last semester of law school.

He was using every spare minute to write 3 long papers, one about 30 pages. I volunteered to type for him, but he was a good typer, too. Besides, he would have had to spell out all the legalese.

So, when my friend Connie called to say she wanted to come for the weekend with 3 of our former campers (from Moody Youth Camp) I said, “Yes!” ….promising Nate that the 5 of us would find entertainment away from the apartment so he could work in peace.

It was a treat spending time with Connie again and reconnecting with these energetic high school girls. Gail, Debbie, and Laurie were a lively trio that loved action, so we took them to Allerton Park for the day and ran around the 1500 acre estate until Connie and I were ready to drop.

Allerton SculptureRobert Allerton (son of Samuel Allerton) managed his family’s large property near Champaign while his father tended to businesses in Chicago. Robert’s true passion was art, with a special fondness for sculpture. He believed art could enhance nature…. and vice versa.

On the Allerton property, then, are his collected works throughout the manicured gardens and natural areas.

 

Allerton...Finding them all (over 100) on miles of trails can take several days. The girls had never seen anything quite like it.

They were also delighted to get inside the gorgeous mansion, astounded to see how “the other half” lives. And all of it was free.

 

Allerton Mansion.

Meanwhile, Nate plowed through the day pursuing his studies, and we shared the dinner hour with him before Connie left with the girls, promising to bring them back for church in the morning. We would share lunch afterwards, then wave them off to Chicago.

That evening Nate went back to his typewriter after the meal, telling me he’d have to labor well into the night. My heart went out to him, and it didn’t seem fair that my life was so easy compared to his. But the end was in sight: summer school, then the fall semester, and in January of 1971, graduation!

I was extremely proud of my man and his gritty diligence. So, before I went to bed by myself that night, I told him so.

“The wife must see to it that she respects her husband.” (Ephesians 5:33)