Exactly ten years ago today, Shane drove over to my house in his bright blue Dodge Neon and picked me up for our very first date. We went to the movies and saw Notting Hill, then grabbed milkshakes at a little restaurant down the street from the theater. I remember feeling relieved that conversation flowed so easily between us, thinking that Shane was really cute, wondering if he was going to kiss me goodnight as our evening together came to an end. He did not kiss me, which I appreciated as the sign of a gentleman, but he did call me the next day and ask if I’d like to go out again. Yes, please! We spent much of that summer together, watching movies in my living room while my dad waited up and kept a distant eye on us from the kitchen, wanting to make sure this new guy in my life wasn’t up to no good. We went out and shot pool at the local pool hall, played miniature golf at the little amusement park, and drove out to Turlock Lake to walk along the water and escape the heat. And then, as Summer came to an end, the very first questions about our future together arose. Shane was due to return to Minnesota when his internship was over, so I began to prepare myself for saying good-bye. But when he was offered a full-time job in California, he decided that his days as a Minnesotan were over, much to his family’s surprise. He stayed in town, and we stayed together. Then I began my senior year of high school, and started applying to colleges three or four hours away from home, and more questions about our relationship came to light. Did I really want to get involved with someone, knowing that I would be going away and starting a totally new phase of my life in the Fall? Would I be missing out on some part of my final year of high school by dating someone who had already completed that part of his life, who didn’t know my friends, or care about our school’s football team, or want to go to high school parties or dances? Shane and I did keep seeing each other throughout that year, but I was cautious. I kept my heart under lock and key. When he first told me he loved me, my response was, “No, you can’t.” Ouch, that must have hurt him. But I had never been serious with anyone before, and I found it hard to tread through these unfamiliar waters. Thankfully, patience is one of Shane’s strongest virtues, and he gave me time and space to figure out what I wanted for our relationship. And one year after our first date, I told him that I loved him. I would be leaving for Cal Poly in September, and the thought of having a long-distance boyfriend was scary, but I knew that this guy was just too good to let go. We decided to give it a try. Shane put a lot of miles on his car during those few years, frequently making the 200-mile trip down to San Luis Obispo, and I went through a lot of calling cards as we spent endless hours on the phone. It was hard at times, but we got through the hard times and reveled in the good times. We were making it work, and I was falling deeper in love. But during my fourth year of college, when I was studying in Paris, those pesky questions about our future began to arise again. Shane came to visit me in May of 2004, and I was ecstatic to see him. Being in Paris with the man you love is enough to put anyone on Cloud 9. But then, one afternoon as we were sitting along the Seine, talking and dangling our feet near the river, Shane threw me for a loop when he reached into his pocket, pulled out the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen, and asked me to be his wife. To say that I panicked would be an understatement. Yes, of course I loved this thoughtful, generous, wonderful man, but was I really ready to commit to forever? I had spent the previous eight months living alone in Europe, embracing my independence and freedom. Marriage was not at the forefront of my mind. And so my answer was, “I can’t answer you right now.” Double-ouch. Shane was hurt, and my heart broke as I saw his heart breaking. But I just knew that I wasn’t in a place where I could make that kind of commitment. The next year was a tough one, as we both wrestled with discerning God’s plan for our relationship. I kept waiting for that moment everyone talks about when “you just know”. It didn’t come. And although Shane is patient, that question can only be kept on the table for so long. I had been offered a job up in Seattle and knew that the indecision timer was running out. Finally, after much praying and talking and counseling and growing, I decided to take a leap of faith, and in July of 2005 I asked Shane to please put that pretty little ring on my finger. We got married the following May, and now, a couple of weeks after our third wedding anniversary, here we are. And “here” is a very good place to be. Bit by bit, I have given my heart to this man, and he has treated it unbelievably well. So, cheers to our first of many decades together – can’t wait to see what the next ten years will look like.
Archive for the ‘shane’ Category
I love this man. Three years of marriage, and he still makes me smile every single day.
My all-star husband completed his first half-marathon today, with an impressive time of under two hours! I, on other the hand, sat in a cafe and polished off a latte and raspberry scone in record time. Seriously, though, I am so proud of Shane. He had some anxiety going into this race, but when the time came, he manned up, proudly pinned on his race number, and gave it his all. Trying to connect with him a couple of times along the course was trickier than expected, but I did manage to track him down somewhere around mile 9, where I ran with him for one block (whew!), and then I caught him again at the finish line, happy to see that he was still going strong. Nice job, honey! You rock.
Ooooohhh, yesterday was a rough day. I went to bed around the usual time on Sunday night, fell asleep within 30 seconds of putting my head on the pillow, and then awoke to feelings of uncomfortable nausea around 2 am. Discomfort quickly turned into pain and by 4 am, I was running to the bathroom and emptying my stomach. So glad that I scrubbed the toilet and the bathroom floors on Saturday, because I spent the much of the next 6 hours laying on the cool tile of our bathroom floor, hoping with each bout of gagging that it would soon be over. Was it the slightly undercooked chicken I ate for dinner the night before? Had I picked up the flu from someone? Whatever the reason, I felt terrible. I spent the entire day in bed, doing whatever I could to make myself comfortable, which wasn’t much. Fever and achy-ness set in around 4 pm to add to my misery. Thank God Shane had yesterday off of work. He gets a gold star for nursing his whiny, sick wife back to health. He did whatever he could to make me feel better – setting up the computer in bed so that I could watch a movie, rubbing my back as I tried to fall asleep, monitoring my fluid intake to make sure I avoided dehydration, even baking me applesauce muffins when that was the only thing that sounded good to me (and baking is not one of Shane’s favorite pastimes). I don’t know what I would have done yesterday without him. Today I was at about 80% – well enough to go into work, though there were times today when I was tempted to crawl under my desk and take a nap. I hope to be back in full force tomorrow.
The really fantastic thing is that now I know that Shane can bake – I’ll be taking advantage of this little tidbit in the future…
Today was a hot one, especially by Seattle standards, with temps topping 90 degrees. So when the kids a few doors down from us invited Shane to participate in their watergun fight, he couldn’t resist. He was clearly living out his James Bond fantasies, ducking behind trees, nailing people with his super-soaker left and right. He showed no mercy, which is why I chose to watch from the safety of our second floor window. Boys will be boys, I guess…
Shane got back last night from his 5-day business trip down to Tuscon, and it is wonderful to have him home again. While I enjoyed having some time to myself, and appreciated being able to spend my Saturday afternoon watching chick flicks instead of the NCAA tournament, I was starting to get a little lonely. Spending a few days on my own has caused me to appreciate all over again just how integral Shane is to my day-to-day life. He keeps the blankets from falling off the side of the bed in the middle of the night. He is that shoulder I need to lean on after a stressful day at work. He doesn’t let me spend all morning watching reruns of Beverly Hills, 90210 (I found I need someone to call me out on my trash-TV binges). He makes sure that I laugh deeply and regularly. He remembers to always close the garage door and turn the heat down at bedtime. He keeps me from being freaked out by the noises that the house makes at night. He takes the garbage out when it’s cold and raining outside. He makes certain that I always feel loved, appreciated, and pursued. He leaves his socks on the floor and his empty glasses on the coffee table (wait – that might be another post…). Anyhow, I’m happy he’s home. Life is so much better when he’s around.
I’ll admit that I was a little skeptical when Shane said that instead of going out, he wanted to cook Valentine’s dinner for us at home this year (I had visions of him walking through the door with a take-and-bake pizza and a bag of pre-mixed salad), but shame on me for doubting him. My man really pulled out the big guns on this one. Our menu consisted of stuffed Cornish game hens, asparagus, and fresh baguette. Fancy. And delicious. Then hens were stuffed with a rice pilaf and baked with fresh rosemary, garlic cloves, and lemon wedges, then topped with a gravy made from white wine and the leftover juices. Mmmmmmm…
I was in charge of dessert and decided on bananas foster, for its decadence and simplicity. Paired with vanilla ice cream and a small glass of the Port I gave Shane for Valentine’s Day, it was heaven. Quick word to the wise, though: make sure you’re leaning away from the pan when you light the rum on fire. Shane was taken by surprise by how high the flames leaped up (I laughed as he immediately raised his hands to his forehead, checking to see if his eyebrows were still intact).
The best part of it all? Taking the time in the midst of a busy week to sit down at the table and devote our attention to one another for a couple of hours. Our lives have been rather hectic lately, with me studying for my licensing tests and Shane working insanely long hours. We had lots of catching up to do, and what better way to do it than over good food and wine?
Many thanks to my husband for putting himself out there this Valentine’s Day. Shane is the first to admit that he’s typically no ace in the kitchen (unless you’re in the mood for a cheese quesadilla), and it would have been easy for him to pick up the phone and make reservations at one of Seattle’s hundreds of restaurants. Watching him go to such great lengths to make this meal extra-extra special reminded me that I am one incredibly blessed woman.