Monthly Archives: July 2017

Newlywed Love (#52)

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April 11, 1970

Nate hadn’t had a haircut since the week of our wedding 4 months before, and I thought his long locks were beautiful. His mustache was the perfect compliment, but all that hair was beginning to get to him.

Many of his friends were growing their hair, too, but in his law classes, most continued with regular cuts. His parents, disturbed by his unkempt look, asked if he needed haircut money. They couldn’t understand why he would wait so long.

Long hairMy folks hadn’t said anything to us, though I’m sure they’d talked  in private. Maybe they even wondered if Nate was becoming someone different than the person they’d gotten to know before the wedding.

One day when I was running my fingers through his silky hair he said, “Kinda long, huh?”

“No! I love it.”

“I’ve been thinking about a haircut.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know. It just looks shaggy.”

He thought long hair didn’t partner well with becoming a lawyer. “Before I start interviewing for jobs,” he said, “I’ll definitely have to cut it.”

“Sure,” I said, “but that isn’t for many months.”

I hoped he would keep it long but didn’t dare say it outright, knowing he’d go against his own preference to favor mine. So I made a suggestion. “How about shaving off your mustache and then seeing what you think?”

He brightened at that, and we had some fun with the process as he took off half at a time. The two of us were looking in the mirror at his clean upper lip for a minute when he said, “You know, I might just get a little trim around the back. I could keep the sideburns. Or I could get a regular cut and grow the mustache back.”

Barber pole.I knew then that one day soon he’d be walking through our door with his hair neatly cut. For all I knew, he’d already made the appointment. I appreciated that he didn’t want to disappoint me, though.

“Hair keeps growing, you know. If we don’t like it shorter, I can always grow it back.”

At that point, the only thing to say was, “You’re right.” The truth was, haircut or no, he would always be a dreamboat to me.

Later that day we opened the mail. A letter from Mom included this:

Don’t let Nathan shave off his mustache. I wish Dad would also grow one. Both of your grandfathers, Margaret, sported cookie dusters.

You can’t please all of the people all of the time.

“Avoid foolish controversies…. for they are unprofitable and worthless.” (Titus 3:9)

Newlywed Love (#51)

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April 9, 1970

Our buildingThese newlywed days were very special for Nate and me. Both of us realized it was a unique year, one we wanted to fully appreciate as we moved through it.

We planned to live in our apartment until the summer of 1971 (more than a year away).  But during that year, many life-directing decisions would have to be made, and we sensed that as we left Champaign, our blissful bubble might burst. Life might continue to be good, we reasoned, but how could it be THIS good?

Living roomNo matter where we would end up after law school, though, we were sure our little home on the 3rd floor of 620 W. Healey Street would always be a precious part of our history.

It was August of 1969 when we first began feathering the nest there. I had moved in after leaving Chicago, bringing very little with me. But 4 months later, a pile of wedding gifts had changed all that, and suddenly we owned all kinds of things.

Now, 4 additional months later, several furniture contributions were coming our way. Aunt Agnes was donating some of her things, and my folks were cleaning out their basement. The youth pastor was moving and blessing us with more.

As different items arrived, I found myself more and more interested in making our home attractive. Even though rearranging furniture wasn’t Nate’s forte’, he was appreciative of my efforts and was glad we actually had furniture to move around.

Living rmAfter the big things had found their places, I splurged on a few candles and some fake flowers. My 1st graders supplied wall art, and I made a giant wall hanging with glue and pom-poms (right). Winding thread around nails in geometric patterns gave us other things to hang, along with favorite photos. When we were done, the whole place looked homey.

Both of us loved returning to our little nest each day, and it was sad to think we might only be there one more year. Whenever moving day finally did come, we knew it would be a struggle to say goodbye.

The kitchenThat’s why, after everything was set up to our liking, we decided to take a roll of pictures, wanting never to forget the details of this special place and our first year of marriage.

 

 

 

 

Small photo albumThe picture-taking process was a lark. Many of the photos we took that night were not of our apartment but of each other, some of them slightly inappropriate for public viewing. But we hoped to have enough appropriate pictures to fill a small album.

After we ran out of film, Nate set the camera aside, picked me up, and spun me around. When he stopped, his face wore a solemn expression. He locked eyes with me, and I wondered what he was going to say.

“You know something? You’re really nice.” He was looking at me as if he’d just met me, right then.

Precious days indeed….

“You are precious to me. You are honored, and I love you.” (Isaiah 43:4)

Newlywed Love (#50)

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April 7, 1970

Mom wrote to us about once a week. These days she was using carbon paper to type 3 copies simultaneously, sending one to Tom in Washington DC, one to Mary and Bervin in Chicago, and one to Nate and me. Although Mary and Bervin got together with the folks regularly, Mom didn’t want them to miss her letters.

She sometimes waxed eloquent and frequently taught spiritual principles she didn’t want any of us to forget. In this week’s correspondence, Mom had chosen to write about the blessing of family, particularly her 3 kids.

Here, there and everywhere around 1140 [their address] are bits of evidence of Mary, Margaret, and Thomas, each here to warm the cockles of our hearts (whatever they are!) and to bless us with precious memories. You are such wonderful children. The only explanation for each of you is God’s goodness, plus your great, great father. As I’ve said before, we couldn’t have all the children in the world, so we just had the best!

Mom raves

Mom had married late for brides of 1941, at the ripe old age of 28. Although she had always been the life of every party, she was the last of her friends to marry. Maybe young suitors wondered if they could handle her spirited personality.

Mom loves DadThen along came Dad, 13 years older, stable and steady, and she was the one he wanted. Mom never got over her good fortune in his choosing her, and she let him know it every single day of their 50 years married – running to him with hugs, kisses, and wild squeals of delight every time he walked in the door.

Her dream was to have a house full of children, but after having Mary and I, her #3 was a miscarriage that became life-threatening when she hemorrhaged. She lost enough blood to make survival doubtful.

But Mom had a determination to live, and after massive set-backs that landed her at Mayo Clinic for months, in the end she came through just fine. Her desire for a dozen children, however, was not to be. “No more babies,” her doctor said. “You could die.”

There was no such thing as birth control in the 1940’s, but Dad wisely determined they would comply with the doctor’s orders. He began keeping a calendar of her cycle himself, not trusting Mom — with her passion for children and penchant for taking chances.

Dad’s system worked well for 4 years, but then, quite unexpectedly, news came of a 3rd pregnancy. This put Mom in heaven and Dad into the depths of worry. Though Mom never admitted to tricking him, we were all sure she did. If so, she did it ingeniously, giving birth to Tom on Dad’s 50th birthday.

At the beach.Dad was relieved that Mom had made it through her pregnancy without incident, and of course he adored his little boy. And Mom? She graciously accepted that this bonus baby had completed her family. Maybe that’s why she frequently made reference to having “not all the children in the world, just the best.”

As for Mary, Tom and I, any way we looked at it, one thing was certain: we’d grown up immersed in love – and also the responsibility to pass it on.

“Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another.” (Romans 13:8)