Today marks sixteen years since the evening my husband and I first met.
I’d already heard of Dave a little bit. I was friends with two girls in the Atlanta area, the older of which had a best friend who was dating or engaged to Dave’s brother. The younger sister was in Dave’s high school class. She told stories of how he was a clown and how he liked this other girl at school.
I happened to be in town and attended the baccalaureate service for my friend’s (the younger sister’s) graduating class – a small class of four or five students at this private Christian school. Since the class was so small, all the graduates and their friends (including me) were able to go together to the local Olive Garden to celebrate.
I was young, exuberant and obnoxious, so Dave and I had quite a lot in common right off the bat. We enjoyed each other’s company and gravitated toward each other the whole night. After dinner we went walking around a local park, the group of us, and Dave and I walked together singing some of our favorite hymns (loudly) and having a grand old time. It was enough to make the girl he liked a bit jealous, I hear. 🙂
But the night was soon over, and I was soon back home in New York, and the extent of my consideration of Dave as marriage material at that time consisted in this brief thought: “Nice guy. Too short.”