October 4 – 12, 1969

Nate and I found great joy in flipping our calendar from September to October so we could officially say, “Next month we’ll be married!”

With the arrival of beautiful fall weather and pretty leaves, we established an evening walk each night after supper. Our six-flat apartment building was in a charming older neighborhood with streets of brick that were much like cobblestones — a delightful place to walk and dream about being husband and wife.

From my journal: “Back on July 4^th in that Holiday Inn room, I wrote and officially sealed my pledge of loyalty, support, love, and devotion to Nate. And since then I have felt like I wanted to re-pledge and double-pledge to him, because my heart has been continually growing in love for him. When I look at Nate, I just about fall over with appreciation for who he is. And his love for me makes me feel unbelievably secure. I never knew I was capable of this depth of devotion. Really!”

Guilt sometimes nagged at me when I thought of Mom and Dad working so hard back home to plan our wedding while we went about our daily routine somewhat insulated from the hub-bub. So the next Sunday we decided to make an unannounced trip to surprise my folks and do what we could to help. Skipping our own church service to drive the 3 hours home, we arrived at the Moody Church steps just as Mom and Dad were coming out, and our surprise was a big hit.

We, along with Mary, Bervin, and several aunts, went out to lunch and “talked wedding.” Afterwards, we gathered around Mom and Dad’s kitchen table, finalizing the guest list and choosing a couple of October dates when we could return to address invitations. Although we had to head back to Champaign after just a few hours, we had participated in advancing wedding plans…. at least a little.

Just before we left, Mom let us know another bridal shower was being planned, this one at our friends the Elsen’s large home in Evanston. I determined then that the first order of business back in Champaign would be to complete the stack of thank you notes I hadn’t yet written for gifts we’d received at the first shower. Another one seemed too good to be true.

We decided to drive the Corvette back to Champaign, planning to place a want-ad in the newspaper. A quick sale would bring the money needed to fund a replacement car, or at least some of it, and I could see it all coming together on one of those invitation-addressing-weekends. (Right: a family friend asks for one last sit-down in the ‘Vette.’)

Just before waving goodbye, I asked Mom when their kitchen remodel would be finished. The tear-down hadn’t even started yet — and our wedding was only 6 weeks away. She patted me on the shoulder and said, “Don’t you worry about all that, honey. It’ll get done in time.” But looking over at Dad’s furrowed brow, I had my doubts.

“Prepare your minds for action.” (1 Peter 1:13)