Couples go through stages in a committed relationship. Romance unconsciously sets the stage for future conflict and the opportunity to learn and grow through it. Betsy and I have many years of testimony to this daunting and ultimately very exciting reality. Yet it all starts with a certain spark. No spark, no fire. Maybe it’s that first eye contact with a stranger across a crowded room, as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s lovely hit ballad Some Enchanted Evening would have it. At the other extreme, maybe it’s discovering that your long time friend is suddenly your lover. However it may be, every story is unique. In my case I came very close to not meeting Betsy at all. Back in the spring of 1955, my college fraternity brother John was engaged to a young woman at another college several hours away. It was spring of our senior year. He and his fiancé arranged a blind date for me with one of her best friends. We would drive down for a weekend together. But I had no money. So on the morning we were scheduled to leave I announced to John that I wouldn’t be going. John called his fiancé Mary with this news. Mary would have none of it. Loan him the money, give him the money, he’s coming. Period. John hung up the receiver and reported this to me, pulled out his wallet and handed me a ten dollar bill. Ten dollars for a weekend. (That will tell you how long ago this was). So I had no excuse. Full disclosure: My hesitation was not based solely on the lack of funds. I had a lot of studying to do; so I told myself. Blind dates: hmm. I’ve been on many, all of them oversold. “You’ll really like this girl” was the usual line. Well, I had had my share of socializing and dating throughout college and in high school before. Actually, only once or twice did I even have a miserable time on a blind date. I thought of myself as an agreeable person, ready to accommodate and please and keep the energy moving in a social situation. For me, having a good time was more often than not the result of general socializing with everyone else at some group event rather than deep conversations with my assigned date. Besides, I liked John and Mary (I had met her several times previously) and I was confident that none of her friends would be dull or difficult. Yet I had doubledated lots of interesting and pleasant young women without feeling any spark of special intimacy. So how could I really trust that I was not coming to Mary’s rescue with this neat person whom she was “sure I would like and enjoy”? Also it was a long trip. And the weather forecast was not promising. There was a day trip to the ocean planned for Saturday and I could imagine myself huddled and freezing on some desolate strip of windy beach. But I mention all this because the excuse card I had actually played was the money. And when this big ticket objection had been brushed aside by Mary and then John, I was too embarrassed and, yes, ashamed to offer any of the above pretexts. So this mix of motives and the ensuing scenario led to my stuffing a few items quickly into a beat up suitcase, throwing in some assigned reading, 19th Century essays by British writers (!), as I recall. Soon we were headed south for uncharted territory. Such was the thin thread of deliberation and decision by which I narrowly missed meeting my wife of nearly 58 years. At this moment my final “blind date” sits in our living room not ten feet away. What a joy that she is looking fit and vibrant as ever, as full of the same energy that greeted me John and I entered the foyer of her dormitory. But then, there she was, descending a staircase prim and proper as 1955 called for. Dazzling. Those of you who know the old Loretta Young Show may recall that Loretta always entered by gliding regally through a golden doorway. “Lovely” and “charming” were the adjectives I believe were used at the time to describe her. Though today the descriptors would raise eyebrows, that’s how I remember Betsy then, golden door and all. Of course, time rarely sours pleasant memories, and it hasn’t done so for me. It has probably improved the overall effect. What’s most interesting to me, though, is that I had fallen in love with this person before knowing anything at all about who she really was. Not a word was spoken before I had formed a clear confidence that this was going to be more than just another blind date. Why? What was the love potion supplied? I have lots more to say about how all of us choose our partners, how we think we choose our partners, and how we really do so, but that’s for another time. For now let’s just say that ten dollars can sometimes go a long way.
Posted on: Mon, 03 Feb 2014 20:42:46 +0000
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