An enquiring mind wants to know... How I met your father.

In 1978 I had decided to convert to Catholicism and I had begun to receive the Knights of Columbus "How to be a Catholic" instructional pamphlets through the mail. The pamphlets were featured in the back section of the TV guide and it was like a "do it yourself" kinda Catholicism. I would take the tests through the mail and then hide them under my mattress as a young man I suppose would do with a naughty magazine and I had always made sure that I was the first person to get to the mail box because if my father found out he would have been furious. ( He cried when he found out and it was the first and only time that I have ever seen him cry.) I scored poorly on those exams, but mostly because I didn't understand the terminology and just like today, I'm not so great at Catholicism even though I try really hard, however now many people are on to me :) Anyway, I would study and pray and I once asked God to tell me who the correct person was who he wanted me to marry and to tell me immediately when I saw the right man so that I wouldn't make a mistake. I didn't want to spend a lifetime wondering if I had done the right thing or not. How else would a person make such a hard decision?

I was working as a grocery checker at the most popular store in town because they had sold discounted groceries, and it was 9:15 which was past closing time so I decided to go outside to collect the grocery carts as I would usually disappear from the front registers when it was time to count the money because there would be such huge sums of cash in the drawers and that was back in the day when people used real money and I thought that one day something unfortunate might happen. ( A recurring theme in my life - people never believe me when I tell them something will happen and it's generally just common sense stuff- natural human behavior. The store was robbed a year after I had quit working. )

As I was collecting the carts a young man drove up in his pick up truck and his passenger was another young man that I had gone to school with and they both stopped to speak with me. When I looked at your Dad I knew that he was the one. I just knew. I spent about three minutes chatting with them and then I went to work in the back of the store and I told another employee that I had just met the man that I would marry. She asked me his name and although she knew him , I didn't. I went home and told my mother the same thing. My poor mother. She had a look of concern on her face and then she too asked me what his name was, but again I didn't know. (Geese , I'd hate to have parented a kid like me.) Later on your Dad would come through my check out line and buy things that he didn't need. On our first date I would find the stuff stashed away in his truck unopened.

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On occasion my mother likes to remind me of what I had told her yet your Dad doesn't believe my story, ( another recurring theme with my life, I see this, "no you didn't", I heard that, "no you didn't....etc..) It's no matter though ,because it was always between God and myself. I'm positive that I did indeed marry the right person. In fact , I believe that God actually makes some people for one another.and that no other combinations of pairing that are not God's will would ever work out.

I have on occasion questioned whether or not I should be married because my personality is even too much for me sometimes, but I've never questioned if Dad was the right person or not. We're perfect for one another, I'm twitchy and he's calm.

*Okay Ana, there's the story that you had asked me to write. It's embarrassing so keep it to yourself ;) The photo above is my senior picture -1979