Thirty-four years ago this night I married the love of my life.
She was one of the most beautiful, most sought after girls at Rice. I asked her out the first time on January 20, 1977, the night of Jimmy Carter’s inauguration. For reasons we won’t go into, she wasn’t sure I would remember that we set a date.
For our first date, she was a couple of hours late. I waited with her roommate, she got back from an out-of-town basketball game and we had our date. Unbeknownst to me, she started contemplating marriage after that date. Like most men, I was clueless and had no idea what train had just run me down. We had our fits and starts, fights and fun.
On April 1, 1978, we officially became engaged. I still don’t think I realized what train had run me over. We still had our fits and starts, fights and fun.
On May 19, 1979, at South Main Baptist Church in Houston, before family and friends, I was barely able to say the words out loud, but I married my beautiful bride Kerry.
Four children, three cities, multiple jobs, and much living later, here we are. We still have our fits and starts, fights and fun.
Today we not only haven’t exchanged cards or gifts, we haven’t even bought cards for each other yet. We’ve been too busy, celebrating our wonderful son who is graduation from high school in two weeks. We went and checked our new house that better be ready for occupancy in four weeks. We played with our granddaughter. We worried about our son and her parents.
We got in the car after Senior night at church and Kerry said, “This may have been a harder day than our wedding day.” Maybe, maybe not.
All I know is I’m the luckiest most blessed man alive. I’d do it all again and wouldn’t change a thing (mostly).
I still am not sure what train ran me over.
But I’m sure glad it did!