Lisa tagged me for the story of how my husband and I met and married, and she didn’t know what she was subjecting herself to. This may stretch to a few posts.
I first met David when I was just the tender age of seventeen. We attended the same church together; I had grown up there and he began attending there when he moved to the area for graduate school. The first conversation I remember having with him was on Resurrection Sunday 1995. We were both guests at another family’s home. I was there with my family, and he was adopted by the host family for the day, since he had no family in the area. I don’t remember much about that day, except I remember watching “Beauty and the Beast” on video after the annual egg hunt (men hide, women find the eggs…this is what happens when two families with only daughters spend every Easter together). David remembers me being too saucy for my own good (not surprising, when I remember what I was like as a teenager).
I graduated from high school and went on to study Elementary Education at Messiah College in the fall. My parents played host to a college-and-career-aged Bible study the following summer, unfortunately dubbed “The ‘Tweeners.” It was well-attended by people from our church, and David and I probably represented the two ends of the age range included.
David was living with a friend of his at this time, and by the time that fall (1996) rolled around, this arrangement had become less-than-favorable. My parents, conveniently, had a vacant one-bedroom apartment over their garage. They offered it to David for a song in return for some manual labor on the lawn and the pool, since their labor supply (in the form of my older sister and I) had dried up. He accepted, and moved in on New Years’ Day 1997.
(insert “Fonzie married Joanie” jokes here)
To be continued…