A happy ending

I really love when people want to know how Clint and I met. If you ask Clint, you’ll get a 45-minute story with lots of detail and a few anecdotes that do not paint such a flattering picture of me. Because Clint isn’t writing this, I’ll spare you the lengthy (although entertaining) story and give you the abbreviated version:

I met Clint when I moved to San Angelo, Texas, to take a job at the newspaper there. I was 22 years old with the ink barely dry on my journalism degree. I was ready to take the on world as a newspaper reporter and visions of a Pulitzer Prize danced in my head.

Clint was living in San Angelo finishing up Air Force ROTC at Angelo State University and taking a few grad classes. He too was armed with a journalism degree and was working part-time at the same newspaper. My first impression when we met was that he was very tall (he is 6’3”) and he had very blue eyes (now I get see those eyes in our daughter).

Let’s just say I thought Clint was a very nice guy but I had no romantic feelings for him at that time. He, on the other hand, thought I was the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes on and knew we were destined to be together. You can probably see how differing views can cause some problems.

We’ll jump ahead a bit to when Clint asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner. He picked me up in his then-new Chevy extended cab and off we went to a Chinese restaurant. I really thought we were just going out as friends so I chatted the whole time, totally comfortable and with no first-date jitters (because it wasn’t a “date,” right?).

This went on for quite some time – dinners, a rodeo – all with me just thinking we were friends while Clint was blinded by love. Finally the poor guy had enough and after one of our evenings out, asked just where this thing was headed. I can best describe my reaction as: deer in the headlights.

Understandably disgusted, Clint went off to his home in Arkansas for a visit, ready to write me off and move on to greener pastures. I started to realize I may have done something very stupid.

Fast forward to me coming to my senses and calling Clint to ask if we could get together. I like to this of this next event as truly our first date. He made me dinner (bacon-wrapped shrimp stuffed with cheese and jalapenos and quail – he really went all out) and we sat outside eating and talking. The evening ended with what would be our last first kiss.

The next year we were married. I like to say our relationship had a strange start but a happy ending.

I really can’t imagine my life without Clint. I thank the good Lord that he helped me see the amazing man that was right in front of my face. Like any marriage, ours has had been filled with joy and laughter, tears and heartache. Not every day has been easy, but having a wonderful husband certainly helps pull you through.

OK, so that account may have been a little long, but I can guarantee Clint’s is even longer. Yet, I never tire of hearing that story because I know how it ends.

Happy 10th anniversary to my wonderful husband, friend and partner for life. And thank you for knowing we belonged together even when I didn’t.