Tag: Ed

Yesterday I posted Meeting My Husband, not realizing that I had left my readers wanting more! Here is MORE….

“I know,” he said. “I remember praying for you in church.”

It was dark; Ed and I were on a camping trip at the beginning of our relationship. We were having a heart to heart talk…and my heart was pounding. Four years ago, I had been diagnosed with breast cancer; I had been afraid that no man would want me after that devastating disease struck. Then Ed came along, and I was almost afraid he was too good to be true.

We talked long into the night about my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment and about our relationship. Ed told me a few weeks later that our camping trip was when he knew he loved me.

Fast forward two years.

Ed and I lived 64 miles apart. We only saw each other on the weekends. He would come to my neck of the woods on Friday, and then we would drive to his suburban place on Saturday. I’d drive back to my apartment Sunday night, exhausted and lonely.

At the beginning of April, Ed made reservations at our favorite restaurant on a Friday night. We decided to dress up a little, and have a night out on the town. I even wore heels, which was rare for this second grade teacher.

After dinner, Ed wanted to take a romantic walk around the lagoon by the university. It was a little nippy, but I was up for a walk.

We drove to the lagoon, only to find that a sky-high chain-link fence surrounded it. We got out of the car, and stared at the mud. The lagoon was being dredged, and a fishy smell filled the air.

Ed urged me to walk around the lagoon anyway.

We walked slowly, holding hands. My feet started to hurt, and I began to shiver. As we completed the walk around the lagoon and approached the parking lot, I headed for the car. “Let’s walk around again,” Ed said.

“Are you kidding?” It was the beginning of April, I was freezing, and those high heels seriously needed to come off.

“Come on!” Ed dragged me back to the path, and we found a bench to sit on. I don’t remember the exact words he said, but he did tell me this: he couldn’t imagine life without me. He pulled out a little, black box. He got down on one knee, opened the little box, and asked me to be his wife.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I cried, and I flung my arms around his neck, almost knocking him and that little black box right to the ground.

When my sister first suggested that I go out with her youth leader at church, I laughed. This guy was really involved at our church. He volunteered for the youth group, he sang at the contemporary service every Saturday night, and he played the trombone for church services every Christmas and Easter. I didn’t think he’d be the right man for me.

A few years went by. I dated some other men; they didn’t last. I turned 31, and hated dating.

Even though I lived over an hour away, I kept going to my parents’ church. The youth leader was looking better and better to me. Plus, he was still single. I kept trying to ask him out after church on Sunday, but I either couldn’t get up the nerve or he had to run to teach Sunday school. (Honestly, he was a Sunday school teacher? Did I really want to date someone this good?) But still, I began to develop quite a crush on “church boy,” as my friends called him. Mom got tired of me talking about him and not doing anything, so she stepped in. She got his email address from a mutual friend. I asked him out for coffee after Sunday school; he replied, Let’s go out for breakfast, and gave me his phone number.

I called him, wondering what I would say. I didn’t even have a chance to worry about that; we chatted easily for an hour. Breakfast went even better; we both knew we would see each other again.

As I got to know him, I realized he wasn’t the man I thought he was. I assumed he would listen to the contemporary Christian station; it wasn’t even a preset on his car radio. I discovered his absolutely favorite band was Def Leppard, and he listened to bands I had never heard of, like Queensryche and Shawblades. He was always singing along to the radio and getting me to sing along, too. He worked at a machine shop; he swore like a truck driver…but not around me. He could be friends with anyone. He talked to the little old ladies at church, and he hung out with the guys from the shop. He was completely different than I thought he would be, and I fell in love pretty quickly.

Fortunately for me, he believed in going slow. He hugged me on the first date, kissed me on the cheek for the second, and didn’t go for the lips until the third date. I was in no hurry; I had a secret.

My secret made me panic about intimate contact with a man. I once panicked when one of my dates got a little too close to lifting my shirt. I had anxiety attacks about revealing my secret to someone I was dating. How could I know when it was the right time? This wasn’t something I could just blurt out on the first date.

With Ed, it turned out to be when we were camping together. It was dark; it was romantic; I was terribly nervous. I trusted him. “I had breast cancer,” I said.

“I know,” he said.

The story continues here.