Newlywed Love (#42)

Posted on July 6, 2017 by Margaret

March 17, 1970

Although both Nate and I came from mostly-Scandinavian backgrounds, when St. Patrick’s Day came around it was a different story. My mom had been half Irish, and she told us she’d “lost all her Swedish blood in nosebleeds as a child.”

She adored her Irish father, someone I never met but had heard tales about. Apparently Mom got her lively side from him and was closer to him than to her mother. It sounded like a two-peas-in-a-pod situation that went all the way back to her birth.

Mom arrived at least a month prematurely, but in those days babies were born at home, and no one kept track of due dates, birth weights, or even exact birth dates. Mom, born in December, had no info other than that she wasn’t expected until late January.

She was a tiny newborn, and the doctor told her father, “She probably won’t make it, so don’t name her. Then you won’t get too attached.”

But Mom defied the odds, and her father admired the baby-spunk in her. Following doctor’s orders, the family called her “Baby” for many weeks. Then finally, just before St. Patrick’s Day, her father said, “I’m going to give her a name.”

He began calling her “Pat” in honor of the holiday he loved, and though eventually they christened her “Evelyn,” her father called her Pat the rest of his life. So did many others. With her very-blue eyes, dark hair, and pale complexion, she looked the part and definitely had her father’s Irish wit.

That’s why, when March 17 came around each year of my childhood, our home glowed green. Mom was decked out accordingly and always wore her “Kiss me – I’m Irish!” button with pride. She served an all-green meal, and heaven help us if we didn’t dress in green that day.

This year, 1970, I gave my new husband a homemade St. Patrick’s card with “smack” and a pair of lips drawn on the homemade envelope. He also got a store-bought card filled with affection:

“You are truly my one and only love…. the one I get so excited about seeing at the end of each day.”

That evening after we had eaten our 69 cent “Chicken Baronet” dinner (out of a box), Nate surprised me with “the sweetest shiny green shamrock box of chocolate candy that I ever saw.”

Life was good, and little things meant a lot. But as we munched on chocolates and opened the day’s mail, we received an unexpected surprise that was REALLY big!

“My cup overflows with blessings.” (Psalm 23:5)

Newlywed Love (#41)

Posted on July 5, 2017 by Margaret

March 14, 1970

Nate and I loved having company from “home,” especially when it was our closest friends. My long-term pal Lynn (we’d met as pre-teens) had begun dating a guy she’d met in Chicago some months before. Lynn and I had been together when she and Don had first connected, and “sparking” happened immediately.

Don was a career Army officer and had already been to Vietnam and back. He was a captain in charge of many other men and knew how to fly helicopters. All of this impressed Lynn and I, and Don seemed very brave. Though he was soft-spoken and humble, we’d both been in awe that night.

It wasn’t too many months before Lynn was moving to Georgia where Don was based. Thankfully, Champaign was on their route south, so they stopped at our apartment for 24 hours. Lynn and I were elated to be together again, and our men had no lack of things to talk about, having the Army in common.

That evening after dinner, we pulled out the movie projector we’d received as a wedding gift, and Nate, never having operated a projector before, left it up to me.

After several false starts, it began working, and we showed the first movie – a small reel of 50 feet – on a blank white wall.

Our Super 8 camera had been going steadily since our wedding, recording movies of everyone who came and went (along with lots of footage of ourselves). Unfortunately in trying to show the films, we often met with jam-ups and other discouraging failures.

This night, however, the first reel flowed nicely, and we howled at the people dancing around on our dining room wall. The biggest laugh, however, came when we turned the lights back on.

That’s when we learned the reason for such free-flowing film. All 50 feet were in a tangled heap on the floor beneath the table.

When bedtime came, Nate suggested Lynn be on the Murphy bed and Don on the living room couch. What they did after lights out would be up to them.

Both of us were growing to love Don, and once we were settled into bed ourselves, Nate and I talked about the possibility of a marriage in their future.

The next morning after breakfast it was time to say goodbye. Nate got the movie camera clicking, and we hoped they’d be back to see the developed film sooner rather than later.

But after they pulled away I slipped my hand into Nate’s and said, “I have a funny feeling Lynn will never be back.” Knowing I was having a sad thought, he put his arm around me and squeezed tight.

As we stood looking down the road where Lynn and Don had disappeared, I thought about the many rapid changes coming to us and to many of our friends. Watching Lynn leave was unsettling. But I knew my dear friend was on the same romantic high I’d been on in 1969 just before Nate and I got engaged. Because of that, she wasn’t sad at all.

So…. how could I be anything but happy for her?

“May the Lord bless you and protect you. May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you.” (Numbers 6:24-25)