Monday, October 3, 2016
On October 3, 1980, a curly-haired college boy, dressed in Levi's and a denim jacket, showed up at 135 E. Neshannock Street to take me on a first date. We went to see Somewhere in Time, starring Christopher Reeve. We were both poor college students, and I remember wondering if I should offer to pay for my own ticket, but he took care of it. I can't remember if we got anything to eat afterwards. But what I do remember is pulling into the graveled area at the back of my parents' deep backyard and sitting in his car, a blue and white Pontiac he'd inherited from his parents, and talking. We talked, and talked, and talked. About our families, our childhoods, our hopes and dreams. Although I didn't know that first night that he was the one, the boy I was going to marry; I did know that I felt safe and at home with him in a way an introvert like me rarely feels with people. We dated the rest of that school year, broke up in May, got back together the following October, and by November had decided to get married. So here we are thirty-six years later: he still buys my movie tickets, we still talk and talk and talk, and I still feel safe and at home when I'm with him. Here's to first dates, to October evenings, and most of all, to that boy!