The Beginning

Well. I suppose we can start out with a true confession since this is what it is all about. I have been a new bride three times. Yup. Three. I know. Nothing to be proud of Russ. Let me just tell you about the three...

First time: Age 19. Without a clue. Thought it would be like my parent's marriage little understanding the work that went into making their marriage what I saw. Five years and two sons later I was single. He was abusive, lazy, and a weed smoking machine. Not the most appealing prospect.

Second time: Age 26. Slightly more of a clue. He was romantic, placed roses on my desk early in the morning so I would have something special when I walked into my office. Took me to dinner, movies, dancing, shopping trips to Utica Square where money was no object. He spoiled me, pampered me, petted me. Gave me a wonderful material life and a beautiful daughter. But there was a much darker side, an ugly side, that was reserved just for me. Constant criticizing. I was a horrible mother, housewife, lover, cook...nothing was good enough, perfect enough for him. Every mistake was magnified. It was not a nurturing environment. Walking on broken glass would have been easier and less painful that what I endured. Thirteen years and no self worth later I decided to be alone was better than the hell I lived in. And so...

Third time: Age 42. Much wiser, much older, much more set in who I am in life and my goals. We met in an unusual way. Maybe I will tell that story later, maybe I won't. We met in September of 2007. The 16Th. My heart stopped for a second when I first saw him. The attraction was instant, intense, and consuming. He was tall, lean, hazel eyes and dark brown hair. When he laughed his face was transformed into a thing of beauty. That first night lasted hours and hours. We called each other at 2am and talked until 4:30. We saw each other several time that first week, always on my back porch as I did not want my children to know I was seeing him. Always late, after they were in bed. Now he tells me that he knew after the first week we would spend our lives together...

I will continue my story another day. He is coming home soon. I wait for him eagerly, make sure the house is clean and neat and he has dinner. Old fashioned? Maybe. But it worked for my mom and he appreciates it deeply...and rewards me greatly.