Worth Waiting For...

A little more than forty years ago, a little girl was born at home in a small village in England.  The midwife had ordered her Dad to fetch towels and her Mum to swallow cod liver oil and orange juice before she could enter the world.  She appeared just three days before her brother’s seventh birthday and for several years he believed she was his birthday present, which he thought was alright but he also hoped he would get the other presents he asked for too.

Almost forty years ago, a little boy was born in the hospital where his Mom worked in Ottawa, Illinois.  Knowing her, she worked up until the moment he made his grand appearance and probably did not hang around in bed for long after that.  His family moved to a small town in Iowa when he was still very young and he grew up on the farm.  He was seven when his sister was born. 

The little girl and the little boy grew up roughly 4,200 miles away from each other as the crow flies.  He spent much of his time playing with his car collection and racing them against each other while she lined up dolls and teddy bears on her bed and dispensed the lesson of the day as their teacher; both loved being outside and riding their bikes.  One day he packed his suitcase and left home with his car collection (there is photographic evidence of this) and she once did the same, except it was the doll collection of the exotic beauties her Dad had brought her from his business trips overseas that she packed.  Neither packed clothes, food or money nor did either of them make it very far before they forgot what had motivated this dramatic departure and returned home none the worse for wear.

By the early 90’s he was in the military and several times traveled to Okinawa, Japan on temporary assignments.  She lived in Okinawa for three years teaching English to Japanese high school students during the same period and both developed a penchant for sushi and hot coffee that came in cans from vending machines.  She would go scuba diving with her friends and he would tour the island by bike; she unaccustomed to such humidity and he recognizing it from the hot Iowa summers.

Once the 90’s were well underway both lived in Colorado Springs, possibly standing in the same Starbucks line with their morning need for a good cup of coffee.  Perhaps they stopped by the same grocery store to pick up ice cream on their way home.  Were they in Palmer Park at the same time having fun on their mountain bikes, there together but separately?  Did their paths cross at an intersection, did they wait at the same light at the same time, and did they drive the same route together?

Two years ago, after a whirlwind courtship, the little girl and the little boy wed in front of his two sons and her two sons, their family and their friends.  Despite technically being adults by this time, they giggled like children, happy and amazed that they had found each other at last.  They were delighted to find that their equal existed, that true love is meant to be, and that having a partner in crime for adventures like biking and traveling, and commitments like parenting and building a family together was possible. 

On our second wedding anniversary, I couldn’t ask for a better man and father to hold my hand, offer a different point of view, have new adventures with, and trust implicitly.  Happy Anniversary my Darling!