Once Upon a Time...

"Once Upon A Time"... is the best way to begin our story. It has been an adventure right from the beginning.

I had just gone through a horrendous divorce after the demise of a 25 year marriage. My job took me all over the country. In my spare time I was writing articles and doing research on being single, a rather new experience for me. I had four grown children who were as shocked and pained as I was over this major life-change. My 11 grandchildren were very protective of their Grandmother.

I remember one particular moment in my dating history when I was brought home and sat talking out in front of my daughter's home, where I lived at the moment. (One noticeable factor when one walks out with only suitcases and a few memories, is that the standard of living for most women drops like a rock. Because I traveled with my job, having a permanent home was not financially feasible, so I stayed with my daughter when I was in town).

As my date and I were talking, I suddenly got the feeling of being watched. My date's facial expression suddenly changed to one of amusement. I turned to look out the window of the car and saw two beady little eyes staring at me. It was my 8 year old grandson, Michael, staring in at me through the open window. As I turned towards him he said matter-of-factly, "Don't you think it is time you came in?" Well, that kind of put a damper on my date! I politely said good night and accompanied my grandson into the house, chuckling under my breath. It was nice to be loved!

I think you can call that incident the highlight of my dating memories. It was obvious that the dating pool was lacking. The gap between what I wanted and what was available in my old stomping grounds was widening. I had joined a dating service and was busy writing an article about my experience. Traveling and being away from anything that even slightly resembled a life was losing its glitter. Everywhere I looked it was the same old people going to the same old places, and doing the same old things. I decided there had to be more.

As part of my research I placed a personal ad. I wanted to find out what would happen. I took a great deal of time composing it. I wanted it to be unique and specific. I wanted it to reflect who I was, but in a way that would be different and interesting. I had been reading a book called, "Women Who Run With The Wolves", by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. That was the perfect lead for my ad! So, it began like this... DW45-Woman who runs with the wolves, seeks a man with a warrior's heart. If you can leave the war on the battle field, call....."

It was one of those voice mail things where they leave a message and I can either answer or not. It was free for me. What did I have to lose? Of course the voice mail message was a problem--what to say? Well, I came up with quite a unique message complete with, "...you had better put on your tennis shoes if you want to keep up with this red haired, green eyed lady . But don't fret If you lag behind a bit, I will sit right down on this log and wait for you to catch up."

While my ad was running, my life was changing. I had made a decision to head for Salt Lake City and strike out in a new direction. I had just attended our family reunion and my Aunt had offered to let me stay with her until I could get a job and a place of my own. I would be leaving Saturday morning. I had four calls from nice gentlemen, but none was what I was looking for. The ad was still running. It was Friday afternoon. I was leaving the next day. I had this urge to call and check my messages. What benefit would there be to that? It was hard enough to get them to come all the way across town for a date, let alone 200 miles. The urge continued until I finally checked my messages. There was one message from a very nice- sounding gentleman.

His son answered and told me he was out on the golf course but would leave him a message. He didn't! I waited most of the day and was about to forget about it, but that urge pushed me once again to call. This time I got the answering machine. I left a message. "... I am leaving tomorrow morning for Salt Lake City, but if you would like to meet for breakfast, please call this number, (my girlfriend's). I will be stopping by there before I leave."

When I got to Pat's house she was running out to meet me. "A very nice gentleman just called and wants to meet for breakfast!" She was as excited as I was. We said our good byes and I headed for the Pancake House. Waiting there in the foyer of that restaurant was the most uncomfortable moments of my life. I spent a good half hour looking around for that face that would nod acknowledgement. Finally a very nice looking man walked up and our adventure began.

I think back to that moment from time to time. I very well might not have happened. If I had not bothered to check my messages despite the urge that would not leave me alone...If I had not bothered to call back a second time and gotten the answering machine...if he had not returned my call...

We spent about an hour and a half sitting in his car driving. We didn't have breakfast. That seemed so non-private and unnecessary. We just drove and talked and shared our stories. There were moments when we both cried as we grieved for what might have been. It seemed like we had been friends forever.

We said our good-byes and I left, never thinking I would ever see him again....200 miles.... right!

He called during the week and arrived that next weekend. We have not been apart more than a few nights since. Jim would even drive down to see me after work on a week day, then turn around and drive back in the early morning to arrive at work. It was a whirlwind courtship of six months.

We were married at the Excalibur Casino in Las Vegas Nevada in the Camelot Room.

(See our Wedding Pictures) Our portrait was painted by an airbrush artist while we were waiting to go into the joust and dinner show. That is our special wedding picture. He captured the essence of who we are. We were married in crowns and gowns. It was very romantic! Now, Ladies, how many men would be so inclined as to submit to the "silliness of a costumed marriage? I rest my case.