Tell Me How Ya Met...
So, I was on Facebook the other day reading all of the versions of the "25 Random Facts About Me" list that's going around and around over there (and that I blogged about HERE last week), and I came upon an interesting fact posted by my friend, Ingrid.
Ingrid mentioned that she and her husband, Ian, met because of ME. I had totally forgotten that fact, and so I totally enjoyed reliving that moment from many, many years ago. My first husband and I hosted a party (maybe it was a Halloween party? I can't remember) and Ingrid came, because she was my best friend's sister. And Ian came because he was a friend of my first husband. The fates intervened and Ingrid and Ian met up; they started dating and were soon in love (aahhh....). They were married a few years later and just now had their first children (twin little girls with two of my favorite names ever...Gabrielle and Violet; although, seriously, shouldn't they have named one of them Ione or Iriana or something with an "I"?). I kinda realized how very cool it was that I was somewhat responsible for starting their relationship, and helping create their sweet life together. Kinda made me a little bit teary-eyed.
Which got me to thinking about some other "How We Met" stories. And, since it is now officially The Month of Love, I thought you might let me indulge you with a couple of my favorite such stories.
I had a great Aunt Pearl (she of the sisters named Pearl, Ruby, and Opal; seriously, how funny is that?) who had lost her husband and swore she'd never marry again. As life would do sometimes, she became lonely and changed her mind several years later and, without any of us knowing about it, put a classified ad in the National Enquirer (I guess it was sorta the precursor of Match.com and all those dating sites today). She got several letters back and began corresponding with Bert from Pennsylvania. Not long afterwards, Bert flew from Pennsylvania to Dallas and they met for the first time when he touched down in Texas. They married and her husband-met-in-the-tabloids became my Uncle Bert. (They've both been passed away now for several years, but apparently they were quite devoted to each other.)
My own parents have a great story and their relationship is always one of those that teaches that quick courtships do sometimes have a way of working out. The first time my Dad saw my Mom was on campus at East Texas State University; he was doing a survey for the campus newspaper about an upcoming election and and taking pictures to go along with it. He stopped to "interview" Mom and actually has a picture of the first time he ever saw her (how about that for a special memento?). That night they saw each other again at a campus political meeting and began dating soon afterwards. They were married six months after they met (and just celebrated their 41st wedding anniversary).
My Mom tells the story of someone in our family (I swear I'm not making this one up! but I totally need to find out the details) who met her future husband on an airplane. When the plane met, they ran off and got married!
My friend, Kelly, and her husband Pete met on an airplane too (although they waited a while longer to get married!); my friends Chris and Charles met at church; my friends Angi and Johnny met when Johnny sorta stalked her; Gary's grandparents met while they were on a double date with other dates.
But you know what my favorite meeting-up story is? Why, it's how Gary and I met (of course!).
Gary and I met on a dance floor (we also had our first kiss on a dance floor, and he proposed to me on a dance floor. Sounds to me like we need to go dancing again!). The back story goes something like this...
Gary and I were at the same restaurant/club that night to hear a friend, Barry, play in his band. I had worked with Barry at a publishing company; he was our team's artist and I was a copy editor, but now I no longer worked there and was in graduate school. Barry had asked me to come hear him play countless times over the three years that he and I worked together, but I'd never made it to one of his gigs. Gary was friends with Barry because he had also worked at the same company as an accountant (even though he now had another job) and he often came to hear him play. On that night, I had talked my friends Cheryl and Angela into going to Birmingham to hear the band.
Gary asked me to dance, we talked some on the dance floor, and then about 30 minutes later he motioned to me to come talk to him outside in the lobby area. We discovered that we'd worked in the same building, yet had never met (a good thing, since we were both married at the time); I told him about my two-year-old McKenna, and he got my phone number. He drove off in his little red Miata convertible that night and I sure thought he was cute. (While Cheryl and Angela warned me about him; they didn't want me to get hurt again like I had been before, and were good, possessive friends.)
Because of final exams I was in the middle of at school, we didn't get to go out for another two weeks (he always says he thought I was just blowing him off, but I really did have to study). We went out, kept going out, and have never been apart since.
We always laugh that the fates were transpiring for us to get together that night, because so many things came into play for us to meet. It was the only time I'd ever come to hear Barry play; Gary almost backed out at the last minute because he wasn't feeling well; the irony of us having worked together, but never having met beforehand.
It all came full circle when Gary brought me back to the same place six months later and asked me to dance on the dance floor where we'd first met, with the same band playing in the background. (The old 60s song, "These Eyes," was played both times. Randomly the first time, but arranged the second time around.)
It's definitely a great story to tell our girls, and to tell our grandkids someday .
Back then, we looked like this (all skinny and sans-grey hair)...
and we're still kinda cute together today (although we don't go dancing like we used to; and it's been a long time since we've run around in that little convertible)...
Which all brings me back to the fact that it's the first Random Tuesday of February (you know, that month of hearts and roses and Love). For your Random Tuesday enjoyment today, why don't you tell us about how you and your sweetie met? If you don't have a sweetie, tell us about another good "how we met" story from your life or from your family. I just know I will love hearing them all! (Post here in my comments section, or let us know that you're posting it on your own blog).
I hope you have a beautiful Tuesday. And go give a kiss to that guy who asked you to dance (or stalked you, or or whatever it may have been...).