Faith, Love, and and Bob's Big Boy

Last weekend, I and my brood spent the afternoon at our eldest daughter's home celebrating the first birthday of our grandson, Charlie.  Charlie seemed to enjoy himself, but did nothing to change the fundamental truth that first birthday celebrations are for the parents and probably even more for the grandparents if the truth be told.  Of course, I enjoyed my grandparent time if for no other reason than it provided a legitimate excuse to roll around on the floor like a child.

Joining us at the little gathering was one other couple, friends of Matt and Candace's, who also have an infant son.  As often happens, conversation circled around to how people met and ended up married.  So, Karen and I were able to tell our story.  Reflecting on that conversation, it occurred to me that what two people do after the wedding has mostly to do with their intent to be faithful to the vows they made.  What happens before the wedding is a mysterious intersection of two lives that is a gift of Providence.  This is the story of that gift to me, in abridged form.

I met Karen's family when I was about kindergarten age, as consequence of my parents meeting while serving in the Marine Corps and subsequently being stationed at Camp Pendleton, California.  They could have just as easily lived in Oceanside as Fallbrook and my life would have been infinitely different.  As I have shared elsewhere, it was my parents' divorce that ultimately landed me at the Assembly of God church where Karen's older brother Darwin and I became fast friends for the next several years.  Then, another drastic change and my family moved to Wyoming, 1200 miles and a cultural universe away.  I spent four miserable years going to high school in Wyoming, then worked for a year while trying to figure out what to do with life.  I regularly corresponded with my ol' pal Darwin.

Though my siblings have all remained in Wyoming, it never felt like home to me.  I always had a lingering desire to return to California.  After high school graduation, I was directionless.  I eventually found a job at the local Safeway store.  During the months I worked there, the realization that my life was going nowhere plagued me.  With no other plan than to get out of Wyoming, I conspired with Darwin to move in with him and his family.  Thankfully, it was not until years later that I would find out what angst this caused some members of his family.

I arrived back in California in the fall of 1978, still directionless and my faith at a low ebb.  In one of those silly bargains we creatures try to make with our Creator, I did promise God on the flight out that if He would get me to California, my life would be His -- as if the plan to go back to California was all mine!  Initially, Darwin and I had a vague idea that we would share an apartment.  A bunk-bed in his room at his parents' house proved a much cheaper alternative.  One of my first revelations after returning to California was that something had happened to Darwin's awkward, plump younger sister during my five year hiatus.  Karen was approaching that magical sixteenth birthday.  Her braids and braces were gone.  While I thought nothing of it at the time, I did note in my first letter home to Mom the fact the rest of the Potter family looked the same as they had five years earlier, except for Karen...

Of course, there was a paradigm shift I had to go through.  I mean, this was the pesky kid sister of my boyhood, to be avoided at all costs.  Suddenly, she was a, well, a SHE, to start with.  Very alive, suddenly lovely, and much better at initiating conversation than I ever hoped to be. 

Still, in the short term, Karen remained my friend's kid sister.  As I was living in her folks house, we talked a lot, often about our romantic interests.  She was dating someone, I was interested in someone, but couldn't really date given my lack of transportation.  Church youth groups are, if nothing else, certainly effective at inspiring teen romance.  Though without wheels, I was able to see the object of my infatuation several times a week at various church services or youth group functions.  I shudder when I recall how awkward and ignorant I was about how to behave around a young lady.

Well, this all came to an interesting twist about the time of our church's annual Valentine's Banquet.  I had no suit and still no car.  By this time, Karen was working part-time while in high school and also driving the old family Dodge Dart.  She volunteered to take me to the mall in Carlsbad so I could procure appropriate attire.  We spent the afternoon shopping and acquiring a pale blue suit along with a matching shirt and tie.  Pastels were big in those days.  After this grueling expedition, we were both ready to sit and eat.  We ended up at the Bob's Big Boy at the end of the mall.  This was still 'just' Karen, more like a sister than anything else.  I could just be myself.  And we sat and talked for hours.  Nothing seemed more comfortable and natural.

I remember almost nothing about the Valentine's banquet.  To this day, I vividly remember sitting with Karen at that Bob's Big Boy and realizing that across from me was someone whom I could spend hours with that seemed like minutes, who had no expectations for me to be more than the quirky person that I was then and still mostly am.  Little did I know, it was the beginning of a lifetime together.