In the years after high school I sowed some oats and experimented with life. I explored love, travel, and a few illicit substances before it was all said and done. I received a couple of hard knocks as men took advantage of my kindness and naiveté. I worked hard but spent a lot of money while I discovered slot machines and cocaine. I was enrolled in college but never took it seriously enough to make decisions about my life or grades that counted. I changed majors three times over five years and never finished.
I had graduated from high school in California and stayed there after my parents relocated back east. I was finished with moving around. For the first time in a decade I had established friendships and felt a sense of belonging. I was self supportive and made the decision to rescue my sister after she finished high school (her story to tell). I rented a two-bedroom apartment and brought her out to live with me. My work with the railroad kept me on-the-go to the extent that I was gone more than half the time each month. Frankly I don’t remember much about that time except that we fought about dishes and who would be doing them. I experienced a reality of being stone broke. It took everything I earned to take care of us both.
I turned 21 and felt old. In an effort to bring some light and fun into my life, my sister arranged a blind date for me. She was dating a Navy guy from a local hospital base who had three roommates. Apparently, she invited them over to our apartment with the agreement that I could choose one for a date. I was getting ready for the evening when I heard commotion in the kitchen and as I entered the main living area I was aware of three young men. One of them – the only one I really noticed – had his back to me but oh…. What a view. He wore white flared pants and a camel colored short sleeve shirt. He was the tall, blonde, and broad shouldered. Even from the rear, there was no doubt in my mind that I was interested and immediately attracted. It was a visceral physical attraction. When he turned around and smiled, I could barely breathe. This blonde god was the kind of man that would never, ever, be interested in a gal like me.
His kind of attractive looked past girls like me. Even though I had an average figure and corrected my ‘bucked-teeth’ issue with orthodontics and dental surgery – my body image and self value was still strongly tethered to the original version of me. I felt an immediate sense of disappointment as I recalled the thousands of rejections that had previously taken place (in reality it was probably dozens – felt like thousands). The other two guys were great but I put them all in the same category – too attractive to be interested in me. I felt disappointed but attempted to have fun as I knew Al was excited about ‘hooking me up’. The tall one – the one that had first caught my breath – asked to lie down at midnight. He explained that he had an oral surgery procedure the next morning and was unable to eat or drink anything after midnight; he might as well sleep. I directed him to my room and carried on. An hour or more went by… I was curious. I walked back to my room, opened the door and looked in on this human hunk who was lying in my bed. He looked up.“You know – it’s not just any man who gets to sleep in my bed.” I felt brave. He invited me in. I sat on the edge of my bed and talked with him until it was obvious that everyone else had quieted down and was ending the night. He kissed me or maybe I kissed him or we just simply moved into one another in some romantic and wanton way. I believe I heard trumpets or something coming from the heavens. I knew that I wanted to kiss him again over and over and over. I was certain I didn’t deserve him. I hoped he wanted me. It was a beginning.
Truth be told, I was immediately in love. I was in love with the idea that a man who ‘looked like him’ would be *at all* interested in me. I lived in fear that he would wake up and notice the fat buck toothed girl I really was. When, just a couple of weeks (like, literally – two) after meeting, he casually discussed getting married someday – I said yes! Let’s do it. He moved into my apartment, turned 20 and picked out an engagement ring that I helped to pay for.
I gradually fell in love with the family attributes he embodied, the way he allowed me to feel special and beautiful, the insecurities he trusted me with. It was the first time that I understood I was not the only one who felt unlovable. He felt that way too – even though he was physically beautiful. An ah-ha moment…. Beautiful people could feel unworthy. He was Francis Marion Rockefeller (Rocky to me) and he was my prince charming. He was the vision of everything I had ever hoped for and it was rough. We were so very young. We were both so broken in our individual ways but we didn’t know it. There was such a void in our awareness. In an effort to fulfill the Cinderella story, we got married and began a life together. We vowed to cherish and to adore without understanding the meaning or value of that commitment.
It was SO MUCH work… which, feels like an understatement really. Neither of us was emotionally ready for the commitment of marriage and yet, we were drawn to one another in a way that felt constantly passionate and romantic. There were ‘eye’ moments…. The kind you see in movies where everything stands still and nothing exists except you both – there – in the moment. There were evenings of dreaming and hoping and planning the rest of our lives. There were fights about money, lots of adventure, and card game weekends with friends. We got a cat, went fishing, ate guacamole, and discovered strawberry shortcake in a way that only happens when one is pregnant.
Our son was born just weeks before Rocky was scheduled to leave for a six month tour of duty to Okinawa, Japan. He showed up after 9 hours of labor weighing in at 10 lbs 9 oz; not bad brewing for a first time mom. There are so many funny stories to tell about that day but leave it to say that neither of us had ever experienced a more joyful moment. Parenting became us. We pulled maturity out of our asses and bucked up to the occasion of accepting the role of mom and dad. This was the moment, the single most important moment of our lives up to now. It was the moment that we understood commitment and honor and hope in a way that had never shown up before. It was the moment we unconsciously decided to get our shit together. We looked at each other and knew that our ‘forever’ had just been dedicated. Or so we thought.