I found this in with my mom’s art supplies :o)
With all this moving brewhaha, Kevin and I didn’t even go out for dinner on our anniversary back in May. Looking forward to heading down to celebrate in San Diego this weekend.
Funny, it’s almost like we’re back where we started. A new beginning.
We met officially at college in Pasadena, just a few minutes up the road from here on the 210. I say, “officially,” because during our first date, we were looking at some of my photos and discovered we had attended the same month-long youth Summer Educational Program near Orr, Minnesota, during July 1980. I had a pic of him sitting with the other campers on the rocky lakeside area watching the waterskiing showcase at the end of camp. As we each talked about our memories from that summer, we figured out that his dorm had attended a Bible Study hosted by my dorm, probably were even partners in basic ballroom dance class in the Bugaboo (the staff’s hangout).
So, when my friend, Sheri, and I came in a wee bit late for brunch one Saturday morning during the start of our sophomore year to find the only two vacant seats were across from two guys by the names of Mike and Kevin, the kind eyes of the taller fellow were unaccountably familiar. Where in the world could I have possibly known him from? He was from the States, had been at the Ambassador College campus in Big Sandy, Texas, the previous year.
Puzzling over that question on my way back from brunch turned into a conversation, turned into a date, turned into a friendship, turned into love, turned into a walk down the aisle in front of Ambassador Hall 31 years ago to Pachelbel’s Canon in D recorded by the Canadian Brass.
Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.
I feel mortified when I recall what followed my whole brain radiation treatments in November of 2016. I don’t know if it triggered a manic episode or if it simply fried my prefrontal cortex, thoroughly disabling my governor, but whichever it was, I had an unplanned, beyond unwelcome, trip to La La Land.
In a nutshell, I started swearing like a sailor, decided to divorce my husband, and I ran away from home.
It was just after Christmas 2016 that I packed my bags and got on a plane headed for a friend’s place in Quebec. I cut off basically all contact with my husband, only keeping in touch with our son.
I had been away for about 6 weeks when I started, what I can only describe as, coming back to myself. I woke up one morning thinking, “What am I doing here?” A couple of days later, at the end of February 2017, I took my heart and my phone in my hands and texted Kevin, “I’m not sure if I made the best choice.”
By the first week of March, I was on a flight back to San Luis Obispo.
It’s been a long climb out of the crevasse of depression I experienced for the next several months, but with the love of my husband and the many, many prayers offered on my behalf by family and friends, I’ve been raised up.
Most days now, I wake up, smile and say, “Good morning, Papa. Good morning, Jesus. Good morning, Holy Spirit. Thank you for another wonderful day and all I will experience in it.”
Let me introduce you to my ESA pal, Fergie. I adopted her from a rescue foundation here in Orange County. Been yo-yo-ing between the central coast and here since some time in February. My husband’s been helping out the folks in the W/S Packaging Fullerton Art Hub since their department manager resigned at the end of last year. And now they’re in the midst of transferring Kevin from the San Luis Obispo plant to take over the position permanently. Sooo, we’ll be moving to Brea within the next couple of weeks.
Never imagined I’d be living in the LA area again.
Never imagined that I’d actually look forward to it!
Brea is a cross between the quietness of San Luis Obispo and the beautiful aesthetics of Santa Barbara.
At the moment, Fergie is still staying at her foster mom’s place, but she’ll be joining me as soon as we get settled into our new digs.
Love that smile :o)