It has been a while, and I’m way overdue for giving you a story. I promised in my introduction that I would share “insights” from the journey I’ve been on, but today I’m gonna brag a bit. I know, Paul says in the “-ians” (you know, Corinth-ians, Ephes-ians, Coloss-ians…) that we should only boast about the Lord, but I think it’s good to brag on our loved-ones once in a while. In this case, it’ll my husband.
I was just recently at the dentist, where the front desk ladies were telling me how they had just met my husband a couple of days before, and how nice they thought he was. When I added that I like him a lot, too, one of the ladies said she found it refreshing that I would say that about my husband… in a day when so few couples stay together. Oh, they don’t know the half of it!
We were nineteen and twenty when we married in 1990, and I’m sure there were lots of doubters attending our wedding (Who could blame them?). By today’s standards, that’s really young. We were each used to having different things, but one thing we had in common was our desire to attain unusual goals by working our tails off. See, I was working to be a professional dancer, and he, an airline pilot. It’s not often that you meet sixteen-year-old boys who know exactly where they want to go, and what it will take to get there. He was working in the same restaurant I was, to pay for his ice time (High school hockey can be an expensive habit!) and the fuel he used when flying his father’s airplane. He had never met an aspiring ballet dancer before, so we became fascinated with each other. We spent lots of late nights and weekends closing down the restaurant together, telling stories, and laying out the plans for our futures. No one believes me, but when he joined our team (I began working at age 15, and was already 17 when he started) I didn’t like him at all! He was brash, angry, and had a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. Truth be told, I was a little afraid of him.
It didn’t take long though, after getting to know him, to get to the bottom of the anger and the chip on his shoulder. Besides, it gave us something more to talk about. Because of that, we formed a friendship of mutual respect and admiration, and it wasn’t long before we became a couple. I was excited to see him become a pilot, and he celebrated my performances with me…even drove me to classes (45 minutes each way!) for a time. He would patiently wait during class, which lasted an hour and-a-half, and then drive me home, before making his final trek toward his home…another half hour up the road! Crazy boy!
We got engaged the week of his high school graduation and were married a year-and-a-half later, continued working in the restaurant business, and kept inching toward our dreams. Being in the throes of youthful bliss, we would have never guessed we would celebrate our first anniversary with one of us in a wheelchair, and a very uncertain future ahead.
Well, I was the one who lifted the overweight bus-tub full of dishes, which made my future aspirations history in seconds. It took only the distance between my hefting hands to the floor, where I deposited my load, to change everything I knew. I remember only a feeling of my back muscles twinge like the string of a plucked violin, before a horrible burning sensation started. Like most athletes, I ignored the pain and assumed it was something that would work itself out. “It” turned out to be three herniated discs, damaged to the point of no return, and impeding my ability to walk…ergo, the wheelchair.
After surgery the doctor informed my husband, then 20, that the damage was more than the MRI’s or CAT scans showed, that I would probably never walk again, and that we should be looking for a wheel-chair accessible apartment. Can’t imagine what must have been going through his mind at that moment, but I was quick to offer him an “out”. I volunteered to give him a divorce so he could re-marry a woman who would be able to “do” life with him the way I would not be able. Because he was so young, and always had been into things like skiing, skating, climbing, and such, I felt it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stay with me. Un-detoured, he reminded me that he vowed “in sickness and in health”… and meant it. Completely blown away, I decided I would spend the rest of my life saying thank you.
I walk today, (and remind him often how lucky he is that I do), but I still look back and remember that as being such a devastating way to start our lives together, and continue to find ways to show my appreciation for what I have been given.
Not long after surgery, I was told I would probably have to have another procedure done, which would cost almost twice as much as the first. Without the education to have jobs that would provide insurance, we had to consider what we would do next. Mike’s choice was to join the Marine Corps, something he had wanted to do for a long time, but now had even more reason to do so. It would provide the medical care I needed, an income for the short term, and an opportunity for him to get his degree for the long term…all of this in an effort to take care of me, and us, and adhering to the Marine Corps statute of never leaving a man behind (even if it is a woman!). And this is Semper Fi, “always faithful.”
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