Young Love (#6)

As the holidays approached, Nate was feeling swamped with watching over his freshman guys and trying to keep up with a mountain of homework. But he was not too busy to continue writing letters.

As my former dating relationship gradually loosened its grip on my heart, I began, ever so slightly, to turn toward Nate in a way I never had, thinking about him more often through each day’s routine.

Nov. 24, 1968 – Dear Nate. Your involvement with these 72 undergrad men and their well-being is really something! You’ll have a wealth of experience after your job as their counselor is over. I’ll pray for your wisdom to make the decisions that are best for your men and the school. I’m already praying for your safety. And I’ve decided to mail you a Thanksgiving surprise, since you have to stay on campus through the holiday.

the-holidaysNov. 29, 1968 – Dear Meg. Without your special turkey, Thanksgiving would have been another mere holiday; with your great, multi-colored [paper] bird, it was a celebration! Thank you! I would like to visit you after Christmas. Perhaps the weekend of Dec. 27th-28h? How is that for you? By the way, after this semester, law school is half over.

Dec. 2, 1968 – Dear Nate. Thank you for writing. Your letter was good, and the 27th and 28th are reserved for you. I’m glad you’re coming. It would be great if neither one of us were disappointed with the other. I hope we will be glad. As for me, I’m very busy with my students and getting ready for Christmas. When my head hits the pillow each night, I’m utterly exhausted, but happy. I’m thinking of letting my hair grow again. I just found some pictures of senior year when it was long, though, and I look pretty witchy. What do you think?

Dec. 6, 1968 – Dear Meg. I will see you at the end of this month! I hope very much that neither of us is disappointed. My men are acting up. Last Thursday night I bailed one out of county jail on disorderly conduct arising out of a dispute in a card game. Saturday night I bailed another one out on possession of stolen property. If anyone ever asks you if college kids are wild today, you can answer yes. But to answer your question, let your hair grow long. I love it that way.

Dec. 8, 1968 – Dear Nate. The 8th grade class at my school asked me to be their chaperone on their class hayride Dec. 22. I was flattered, but here’s how they asked: “We’ve talked it over and decided you weren’t over the hill yet and might be good on a hayride.” They weren’t joking. Boy, did I feel old at 23.

Dec. 9, 1968 – Dear Nate. I’m trying to remember exactly what you look like. So I looked in my old photo album from senior year and found a picture of you talking and gesturing with my father on our front walk. Do you remember that? Below the picture is one of me with two girlfriends. Boy, was I fat.

nate-and-dadDec. 12, 1968 – I do remember standing on the walk in front of your house with your father. I also remember very much and fondly, his daughter. The thought of college does bring many good memories — especially senior year, meeting you.

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)