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I've not been particularly lucky in love. I had a few less than desirable boyfriends in my younger years, none of whom lasted very long at all. A few dates and poof! Gone, either their choice or mine...usually mine.
I won't go into my first marriage as I don't have that many positive memories of it and it's in the past...a door best left closed. However, for that ten years, I got two fabulous and beautiful children out of it that have completely blessed my life.
Then came the DIVORCE. It was excruciatingly painful. On the plus side, I lost a lot of weight! Following the divorce, came a very unfortunate relationship that lasted five years. Believe you me, that guy was a very bad apple that was best chucked to the curb. Another five years wasted...
In 1990, I embarked on an eight year journey of single-hood. I had a few dates that never amounted to anything...I had no interest in building a relationship with any of those people. No one floated my boat and apparently, I did not float any of their boats either. Which worked out well, as none of us wasted too much of each other's time.
As the years went by, it became apparent that I had very poor judgement in the Man Department. Plus, I was not getting any younger. Now in my forties, it dawned on me that I might as well give up on finding The One. As my kids grew into teenagers and spent more and more time with their friends or involved in activities outside the home, I got a clear vision of myself spending the rest of my life alone. I decided to accept the fact I would never be lucky in love and my social life would be evenings probably spent with other single, lonely women...or with five or six cats I'd eventually adopt. Yes, there I was in my mind's eye...having a cup of tea, reading a book and surrounded by kitties. One of those eccentric old cat ladies. Heaven help me.
In 1994, I began working as an inside salesperson at the company I eventually retired from. To be honest, I hated working in sales. I don't like being high-pressured by salespeople and I can't bring myself to do that to others, even if I highly believe in the product. It's just not in my makeup and it creates great discomfort. I was at best, a mediocre salesperson, mostly because I just didn't love it.
However, I did love my customers. Ok, love is a strong word; I liked them a LOT. Our customer base was every General Motors dealership in the country and our contacts were the Parts Managers at each dealership. One nice thing about this job was that we had territories, so we had the same customers all the time. This provided an opportunity to get to know them, rather than just have hit-and-run sales experiences. We talked to our customers on a monthly, bi-monthly or weekly basis, depending on their needs.
Eventually, I moved up in the company to a more palatable position, but while still in the sales role, one of my territories included Michigan. One of my customers was a fellow at a small dealership in the northern part of the state. He was quite talkative, so when it was time to call on him, or if he called in for any reason, I would put him off till later, as I knew we'd end up on the phone for a good while. But he was funny and fun to talk to and I really enjoyed our conversations.
Sadly, every couple of years, the department supervisor would have us swap regions. It seemed like just when you were getting to know your customers, bam! All of a sudden, you had new ones and never got to say 'sayonara' to your old ones. So one day I came in to work and Michigan was no longer my territory.
About six months or so after someone else took over my old territories, I went to work one morning and found a voicemail on my phone from the talkative guy up in Michigan. He stated clearly that he wanted me to call him back and not his assigned sales representative. Curious, I called him back and as I waited for him to take the call, I wondered if his new sales rep had ticked him off or something. His new rep, 'Bill', was into the high pressure thing.
He answered the phone and I said, " Hello there! Long time, no speak! How are you?"
"Crappy." he replied.
"Crappy?? I'm sorry, what's the matter? Is there something I can help with?"
A moment of silence, then "My wife left me and I just wanted to hear a cheerful voice." he said.
Oh my gosh. Immediately, I felt so sorry for him. Imagine being so sad and lonely, you'd call a virtual stranger to hear a kind word! I sympathized with him for a short while, said goodbye and went on with my day.
But driving home from work, I couldn't get that sorrowful voice out of my head. So I stopped at the store on the way home and picked up a humorous card about coping with life's difficulties. Next day, I mailed it to his workplace addressed to him in the parts department. I never heard back.
A couple weeks after not hearing from him again (I thought he might have called to thank me for the card), I decided to call him. He came to the phone, we greeted each other and I asked if he got the card. No, he didn't; he explained that the office manager really hated him and always threw out any mail that was addressed to him. "Oh." said I. Awkward.
"Would you like my post office box address?" he asked. "Okay." I said. He gave it to me. More awkwardness.
I went back to the same store after work, bought an identical card, simply signed my name and mailed it to his P.O. box. 'Ok, ' I thought. 'There's my good deed done.' I put it all out of my mind.
A week or so later, a big fat letter showed up in my mailbox. It was from HIM. My, what a chatty letter! Eight pages! Then in the last paragraph, he wrote 'If I should ever happen to be in Elkhart, would you have dinner with me?' Then he signed off.
Gosh. What to do? Well, his town was waaaay north in Michigan. It wasn't likely he'd ever come to my town. But I couldn't just be rude. So I wrote back and said, 'Sure, if you should ever happen to be in this area, I'd be glad to spend some time with you.'
Little did I know that that response was the beginning of a whole new phase of life for me. A few days later, he called, all pumped up and excited and said, "I'll be there on September 19th, late morning." (It was a Saturday.) "Can you send me directions to your house?"
Oh, dear. What have I done? But like an idiot, I said "Sure." Even though my inner alarm system was screaming at me "Are you nuts? You don't know this guy! He could be an ax murderer!" ...I sent him the directions.
By 10:00 a.m. on 9/19/98, I was dressed and only had to blow dry my hair and slap on some makeup when I heard a knock at the door. Now to me, 10 a.m. is MID-morning. Lordy! I would have to answer the door bare-faced and wet-headed! That was not going to make a very good first impression, so I gave it up as a fail right then and there. But that was ok, I had no great expectations of this meeting anyway. I'd only agreed just to be polite.
So off I go to open the door and there stood a slender guy in a lumberjackish plaid flannel shirt, coke-bottle thick glasses and bearing a box of 3 jars of home-canned tomatoes under one arm and two bunches of grocery-store flowers under the other.
"Hello!" said I. He stared at the ground, shuffled a toe on the sidewalk (I swear it's true) and never meeting my eye, said sheepishly, "I'm Patrick."
My heart absolutely melted. "I know!" I said. "C'mon in." I was just somehow so touched that this shy, lonely man came all that way just to meet me. I offered him something to drink (he only took water) and I excused myself to finish drying my hair and putting on some makeup after apologizing for not being quite ready.
It didn't take long and soon I was back in the living room trying to break the ice. He was so obviously embarrassed and bashful. (Which was so unlike the guy who could yack on for ages on the phone!) After half hour of stilted conversation, we went outside, as of all things, this man had brought an alternator with him for my little Toyota truck. (I'd mentioned in a previous conversation that I'd have to get my vehicle worked on...) He set to putting that part on my truck. It wasn't going in easily either, and I could tell he was getting pretty frustrated.
He had to stop mid-install, as I'd gotten tickets to see a comedian's show and we needed to leave to get there in time. He cleaned himself up a bit in my bathroom and off we set to the auditorium in the next town. We really enjoyed the show; then we drove back to Elkhart and went to dinner at a pretty good Italian place I knew. By this time, he was over his shyness and was opening up. He told me that this was the first time he'd laughed in ages.
After dinner, we went back to my place and he started again on the truck. While he worked, we exchanged getting-to-know-you tidbits about our pasts. Turned out the wife had left him for another man six months earlier.
It took him a while to get that alternator on and it began to get dark. Eventually, I had to go get a flashlight so the poor guy could see what he was doing but he finally got it on and the truck fired up. Success at last!
In we went and settled on the couch. All warmed up from his labor and all traces of bashfulness completely evaporated, he proceeded to regale me with story after story. My, my, he certainly could talk! In fact, he talked for about five hours. (!!) Finally, around 2 a.m. he got up to leave. "Have you got a motel room here in town?" I asked. "No, no, I'm driving back tonight." he said. Aghast, I said, "But that's a six hour drive!" "Oh, it's no big deal. If I get sleepy, I'll stop and have a snooze." he brushed it off. I walked him out to his truck and told him goodbye and exhaustedly went in, completely bemused, but what a sweetheart he was!
Within a week, I had another big, fat letter from him and a courtship by mail began, punctuated by phone calls. By November, the tone of the letters turned rather flirty on his part and the romance began in earnest. And he was a very romantic guy.
I saw him again right after Thanksgiving that year and then he came to see me every weekend for a couple of months. Keep in mind, that was a six hour drive. Finally, in February, I received a proposal of marriage ...in writing from him. He arrived the following weekend, apologized for putting it in a letter but said he couldn't wait to ask any longer. Then he actually got down on one knee and proposed again. I had given this decision so much thought. It had entered my head that I'd be a darn fool to let this man go.
That first meeting was eighteen years ago now. Like everyone else, we had some tough times, but very few and I've never regretted a single minute. He's been a great blessing to me, a wonderful husband and my best friend.
You see, just when I was all geared up to be a lonesome, crazy cat lady for the rest of my life, along came Patrick.
(Oh, and he's still talking, ha ha!)
Till next time,
"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." ~ Victor Hugo
"To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that’s everything." ~ T. Tolis
"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." ~ A.A. Milne
Oh Leslie! What a beautiful love story this is! Thank you for sharing this with us!
ReplyDeleteAw, thank you Colleen! You're so welcome!❤❤❤
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