Love_Abides

Looking back over the years, I think that my wife Julie and I were meant for each other. Yet, ironically, our relationship began with the machinations of a matchmaker. Shannon was her name. She knew me because we were classmates. She knew Julie from cheerleading. Shannon must have seen the looks Julie and I cast each other from our seats halfway across the bus on the ride down to ISU. Cleverly, once we’d arrived at our hotel, Shannon took it upon herself to visit Julie’s room and mine, one at a time, and share a secret. Shannon told me that Julie liked me, definitely. She told Julie that I liked her, definitely. She did this despite the fact that neither of us had talked to her about our feelings for one another. The matchmaker’s plan worked. The burden of wondering whether Julie was interested in me or not was lifted from my mind. No doubt Julie feels likewise. I could then breathe easy and know with confidence that this girl likes me, she sees something in me. Fast forward to our honeymoon. Due to the recommendation of our travel agent, we decided on a cruise along the Saint Lawrence Seaway. It was to be a time of boundless excitement and idyllic relaxation. It was a flop. The most glaring problem with the cruise was that it was not newlywed-friendly. The average age of the guests was at least sixty years old. The average hair color was gray. The average excitement level was low to middling. Julie and I felt as conspicuous as extra-terrestrials. The ship began to feel like a prison because we spent most of the time cooped up on board and only a few hours in ports of call. Julie and I adored Bar Harbor, Maine, for example, but only stayed for about six hours. If we had had our druthers, we’d have anchored the boat there for a few days and really explored the spectacular seascapes and surrounding wilderness of this beautiful region. Being tied to the ship’s schedule made for high levels of frustration and disappointment. Arriving at the final destination, New York, was a blessed relief. Not only were we now able enjoy the endless distractions of Manhattan, we were free. We were free to never again choose a cruise vacation. When the honeymoon was over, it was time to focus on family. We believe that developing and maintaining traditions are important aspects of building a strong family. A new marriage will have spouses blending the traditions of their nuclear families. For example, Julie and I maintain my boyhood tradition of trekking to Marmion Abbey in Aurora, trudging through fields of mud or slush or snow, searching till we find the perfect six-foot tall, stiff-needled Christmas tree, lashing it to the top of the car and stopping for McDonald’s on the way home. Because Julie is from an Italian family, she introduced me to Christmas Italian-style. The highlight of this sort of Christmas is the Italian Christmas dinner. Now, in my family, Christmas dinner typically featured ham or pork roast; in Julie’s family, on the other hand, it’s all about lasagna generously layered with ricotta (pronounced authentically as “ricawta”), and accompanied by Italian sausage and homemade meatballs. As far as I’m concerned, lasagna and company are far superior to ham and pork roast. I guess I’m Italian at heart. After some years as a family of two, Julie and I increasingly wondered how it might be to add a third to our household. Once we’d decided to adopt, the waiting began. Consider that with the adoption of a baby there’s no telling when the baby will come because there’s no telling if or when a birthmother will choose any prospective adoptive parent. So Julie and I waited day after day for the phone call announcing good news of a baby in our future. The day that call came, Julie and I were so frustrated with our lack of knowledge and our lack of control that we had resolved to forget about the baby as best we could and go about life as if we were not in fact soon to be parents. With this in mind, we decided to go out and enjoy our Saturday rather than focus on preparations for the new addition. We went to the driving range, then to Charlestowne Mall. I remember buying a video game, Mario Golf for Nintendo 64. When we came home, the blinking red answering machine light beckoned us. Wouldn’t it be funny, we joked to each other, if that message was the call. I pressed the button. The joke was on us. This was indeed the call. The room seemed to spin, time seemed to stop. Our lives had changed in that instant. Finally, we were parents. Every good marriage ought to be celebrated. I consider our marriage very good indeed. Thinking of celebrations calls to mind our wedding reception. After the dinner and the dancing and the parting of ways, Julie and I were famished. Having recently graduated from college, I was used to having access to pizza delivery at all hours. I assumed that we could order a pizza to our hotel room after the reception. I was mistaken. In Downers Grove at 1:00 am in the year 1994, every pizza place listed in the hotel phone book was closed for the night. What did Julie and I eat instead of pizza on this first night as Mr. and Mrs. Cooper' We munched on an assortment of vending machine chips, crackers and soda! Fortunately, we had a rollicking good laugh about this – and it’s been uphill for us ever since.