Today is the anniversary of the day that changed my life forever.
It started out like most days for me—-a full schedule of classes to teach at the local elementary schools. A four year old in day care, who would need to be picked up when my school day was complete. A husband returning from work, expecting dinner to be ready. That was my life.
What roiled beneath the surface was an undefined discontent. Is this what life is supposed to be? It’s what my parents expected; had pushed me towards. Parts of me felt like I was going through the motions.
I had no expectations when I arrived at the YWCA for an evening recreation volleyball program.
My son was home with his dad. It was my night out with adult company. A friend had invited me, probably because they needed more people and she knew I was athletic enough to cut it.
I’m shy, or at least I was back then. Didn’t make friends easily. Preferred to be the silent observer, rather than the engaged participant. It seemed to go south when I jumped to block a shot and came down on a teammate’s foot. Ouch. I turned my ankle and had to leave the game. I found a place along the wall, sitting on the floor nursing my ankle with an ice pack.
The teammate, who I hadn’t met before that night, came over and sat down beside me. We talked. And talked. And talked.
That was all it took. I was living: “You know when you know.”
Not that it was easy. We clicked in a way I had never experienced before. It was magic.
And chaotic. I was married. I had a child. What was I doing?
Now, fifty-two years later, we still click.
We survived the chaos and upheaval my choices made. It wasn’t easy. We were both confused by our strong attraction, confused by society’s norms, confused by seemingly impossible choices.
It would be easy to say my husband was a brute. He was not. He was an okay guy.
What solidified my choice to leave him was this thought: In forty years will I look back and wonder where my life had gone, why I had chosen loyalty over happiness.
I guess it was selfish. Something inside me had come alive, awakened to possibilities. There were no role models for us back then. Everyone was closeted. I left the marriage and never looked back. Life was, at times, a roller coaster. Mix Catholic school indoctrination with mid-West Protestant ethics. We sorted it out.
Now, fifty-two years later, we still click.
We stood on the ground of common interests, common beliefs about love and kindness, about communication. Still it was a roller coaster. We made plans. We forged experiences through sports and travel. We camped and hiked and bicycled through the years, through the tears, through creating a life together. We stumbled, fell apart, found our way back.
And we still click. Fifty-two years later!
I feel blessed in so many ways. Our relationship with my son ( and his wife) is healthy and on solid ground. My love, my wife, is the best person I know. Kind hearted. Strong. Smart. Sometimes silly. Always up for adventure. And she accepts me as I am, faults and all. I don’t have to look back with regrets.
I knew what I knew fifty-two years ago and the living proof of that is what we have today. A love I can count on. A love for a lifetime.
Walks Across 