The Author

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I am a high school English teacher, and mother of two charming little ones of my own. I teach in a high poverty urban charter school, while I live in a typical American suburb that has frequently been rated one of the safest cities in the country. It is a paradox I struggle with constantly, but it is my life.

Monday, November 1, 2010

November 1st...

.... is our anniversary. Today marks 7 years. Sometimes it feels like they have flown by, but other times it feels like we have been together forever, because we have just been through so much.

November 1, 2003
On this day in 2003, I married my best friend, a guy I had never called my boyfriend.Yes, that is right, Marc and I were never "boyfriend and girlfriend." We met in high school, but we were not together then because we are 5 years apart and that was a big deal then. When I was 13 and he was 18, I had a HUGE crush on him, but if he knew it, he never let on that he did. After he graduated, we lost touch until I graduated and we ran into each other at Axis, the college group at Cornerstone church (at the time).

We were best friends almost instantly. We talked on the phone for hours every night. We made midnight runs to Del Taco for study breaks on nights when we both had too much studying or schoolwork to get done. We went to the beach. We shared everything with each other, all our inmost thoughts and dreams. It was a wonderful thing, and I knew I loved him then. I think he really knew he loved me too.

But we both saw other people somewhat during this time, although nothing really serious. I made plans to leave for Bible school in another state, which was to be my first stop on the way to the mission field, meaning I may never return to our hometown.We made the best of it, but as the time for me to leave drew near, the time we spent with each other got more serious and somber. We both knew we were about to lose something we would probably never find again... and so Marc told me I couldn't leave, at least not without him.

It was cute, and I thought it was a joke. He said, "Marry me." So we went to the mall and looked at rings. I had butterflies in my stomach, but nothing in my life had ever turned out quite like I had dreamed it would, so I didn't take it seriously. And then he told me he loved me. We had always said we loved each other, but this day he told me that he was in love with me and that he couldn't live without me... and the rest is history.

He asked my dad for my hand in marriage, he proposed  "officially" with the ring I tried on for fun a week before, and we told our friends and family we were getting married. When I told people, "I'm getting married..." The first thing they asked was, "To who?" I got that question so much and I always found it humorous, because usually people ask, "When? How did he propose?" and stuff like that, but in my case, they wanted to know who...   And people thought we were crazy, and that it would never last, but we knew it would, and everyone really close to us knew it would too. 

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