A special note:
Tomorrow I’ll be boarding a plane to Europe to spend time with my college roommate Julie, who lives in Germany.
From there I’ll head over to England to meet my 12th grandchild, two-week-old Jonathan. I’m eager to catch up with his parents, too – Hans and Katy – and their five other children – Nicholas (8), Evelyn (6), Thomas (6), Andrew (3), and Elizabeth (1).
While I’m gone, I won’t be able to blog, but I’ll resume “Young Love” on March 1st.
See you then!
But first the conclusion to yesterday’s post:
September 20-21, 1969
As Mom and I drove the 12 miles from Wilmette to Arlington Heights, I ran through a mental list of all her “girlfriends,” trying to remember the names of everyone who would be at my surprise bridal shower. More than likely it would be her “club” of about a dozen women, and I knew them all.
When I walked in the front door, though, it turned out I didn’t really have to fake being surprised. The room was jammed with women, over 40 of them, three generations of happy faces all yelling, “SURPRISE!” And I was stunned! They had pulled it off after all.
We spent the afternoon chatting, playing pencil-paper games with a wedding theme, eating delicious fancy foods, and opening mountains of beautiful gifts. I was speechless and couldn’t wait to report every detail to Nate.
His mother was there (below, center) having driven a long way, and also her two sisters, Nate’s aunts, who I was eager to get to know.
And better than everything else was the big surprise I got half way through the afternoon…. when in walked Nate! He had driven the three hours and braved a mob of women, most of whom he didn’t know, simply because he missed me. I was thrilled! And best of all, everybody got to meet my groom ahead of the wedding. It was a perfect afternoon.
After loading up all the “loot” (as Mom called it) and heading back to Wilmette, there was no time to go car-shopping with Dad, but that was alright. Mom volunteered her VW van so we could put the Corvette out of service and work on selling it. And we would plan to return on another weekend to hunt for a car.
When we got back to Champaign, there was a letter waiting from Aunt Joyce. Her words put our weekend of receiving lots of “loot” into the proper perspective. Isn’t it wonderful to be in love and belong to the Lord Jesus Christ? What more could one (“or two”) desire?
“Walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.” (Ephesians 5:2)