On this date 50 years ago I went on my fourth date. That's noteworthy because I was a college sophomore and the first three dates were in my freshman year, with three different girls. I knew better than to ask any of them for a second date because...well let's just say none of the outings was a smashing success. So I waited until my sophomore year and a new batch of freshman girls showed up. My theory: strike early before your reputation reaches them.
The small Bible college I attended put on a Saturday night fall mixer for the student body. They rented a swimming pool and gym at a local high school. That was problematic because I couldn't (can't) do any of the things that happen in a gym and couldn't swim. Also, at about 6'2" and 145 lbs. I looked like a very white soda straw, not a good look in a swimsuit. So my roommate and I went about two hours after it started in hopes of at least making contact with girls.
I confess I had my eye on one of the freshman. I knew her name and little else about her except that she looked sweet. If you're a scrawny social misfit sweet girls seem like a good choice because they're less likely to laugh at you if you ask them out.
She said yes, as did the girl my roommate asked, so we went to an ice cream parlor (remember Farrell's?) and then returned to campus. She didn't run back to the dorm, so I counted it as my first dating success.
Note: if you think this is any kind of self-deprecating exaggeration I can easily refer you to any number of people who will confirm all of this.
Emboldened by my non-FAIL I asked her out again after church Sunday night. I don't remember where we went. I had no money and no car so it must have been someplace within walking distance of campus. When I walked her to the girl's dorm.... What in the world was I thinking???
I kissed her.
She didn't throw up. Or even hit me.
Boom!!
When I walked into the guy's dorm I quickly learned several of them had been watching through their windows. This was something of an event; Craig got a second date! I remember getting comments, but I didn't really care. I had kissed an actual girl who wasn't my grandmother.
I never dated anyone else. We got married two and a half years later and passed the 48 year mark last August. Five churches, a stint as a college prof, two married sons, four grandkids, two retirements (with a third one at some point in the future), and an innumerable number of highs and lows, and we're still here.
Today, on the evening of the 50th anniversary of that first date, I'll teach an adult class for our church. When I'm home we'll talk on the phone because she's in Arizona on her annual fall trip to visit the kids. Grandparents day takes priority, but I'm fine with that. After a half-century we don't need to make a big deal out of a particular day on the calendar. It's about all the days, hearts knit together. She may be in Phoenix this month as I was in Brazil last month. Our hearts are in the same place all the time.
50 years is a long time, and I like that. Some things should last, and a relationship with a good wife is one of them.
T'ank you, Fadder.
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