When he first calls me to ask about getting together, I’m not sure if he wants to renew our friendship or take me out on a date. A couple of mutual friends dropped hints to me about him, and I’d enjoyed seeing him a couple weeks prior. That was our first meeting in more than six years, and those years have been kind to him. He no longer wears aviator glasses or has braces covering his teeth. His once lanky physique is now muscular. He was with another woman that night, but she and I shared a cab ride across town to our apartments, so I have to figure there’s nothing going on between them.
I accept his request to meet for dinner and afterward I realize it is in fact a date. Nothing happens between us that night to confirm my suspicion that his intentions are indeed romantic, but we women can sense these things. On Christmas Eve, I call to thank him for our lovely evening and tell him we can connect again when I return from vacation. During that vacation, my extended family rejoices in the news that he and I have gone to dinner.
“You’re going to marry him,” my cousin tells me.
Her bold statement amazes me, since all he and I have done is go to dinner.
“You know, he was my counselor the summer Papa died,” my brother informs me.
Upon hearing that tidbit of information, my father proceeds to tell me how he remembers what happened that summer our grandfather passed away.
“Your brother told me how he was very upset when he got the news. And then he said his counselor took him for a walk and talked to him about the loss. It was such a comfort to me as his father to know that someone was there for him when I couldn’t be. I was always so appreciative for how that anonymous young man handled the situation for my son,” my dad says.
I can tell that my father already approves of him, even though, of course, all we’ve done is have dinner.
It turns out that my relatives’ feelings about our dinner were right. I went on to marry that anonymous young man, who was once my brother’s camp counselor. That man also was once my camp friend. We met for the first time when he was 14 and I was 13. Neither one of us dated much in those days, but I remember linking arms with him and laughing. Laughing a lot, actually.
That first summer we met, his parents were moving from Minneapolis to the East Coast. Our camp was in Wisconsin. “Does that mean you won’t be coming back next year?” I asked him.
“No. No. I’ll be back,” he replied.
He kept his word. The next summer, he returned. We hung out, we laughed some more, and then that was it. We didn’t see each other again until that fateful night, nearly a decade later, at Cafe Lalo on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
It wasn’t love at first sight for us, by any means. When is it ever, really? It’s probably fair to say, though, that it was laughter at first sight. Not because either of us looked funny. (Well, maybe we did a little. It was the late ’80’s after all.) No, the laughter I’m talking about is the belly aching kind when your eyes squint shut, and you find yourself gasping for air, unable to catch your breath. That’s how he made me laugh when we were teenagers together in the North Woods of Wisconsin. And it’s how my husband still makes me laugh today, wherever we happen to be.
Even when we have our differences, he manages to find a way to couch them in humor. According to him, we don’t have arguments. We have “discussions…” of varying intensity, of course. He apologizes with levity, such that even if I’m not ready to forgive and move on, I’m left giggling. It’s so much harder to hold a grudge when laughing.
We vowed to stick together until death do us part. Obviously, we don’t have control over all of that vow. But the part we can fully own, the sticking together part, I never doubt, even during the most heated of “discussions.” At the end of the day, that old cliché that laughter is the best medicine holds true for us. Laughter is responsible for bringing our hearts together. Laughter heals any hurt we might inflict on each other. And unlike so much that fades with time, laughter knows no age.
This summer marks 26 years since we first laughed together at overnight camp, and 14 years since we started laughing together as husband and wife. Happy Birthday to my very own good humor man. I hope laughter keeps our hearts united for many more years to come.
How about you? Every relationship has its own recipe. What’s the main ingredient in yours to keep things on the right track? If you are not in a relationship, do you feel that there’s a key ingredient that would be necessary should you enter into one? Please take a moment to share your thoughts on love with me.
This is a Finish the Sentence Friday post. This week’s sentence is “When I think of birthdays….” Hosted by: Kristi of http://findingninee.com with co-hosts Stacey of http://thismommasramblings.com/ and yours truly of https://mimisager.com/.
Happy happy birthday to your husband, Mimi! I love this story. How awesome that he made you laugh as a young girl and that he still makes you laugh today. Also isn’t it weird how sometimes, people “know” that you’ll marry somebody? I knew I’d marry my husband the first time I met him in person and remember telling my step-mom that on the phone.
Thank you so much for co-hosting Finish the Sentence with me this week! xxoo
Thanks Kristi! It is strange how some people just “know.” I’m impressed that you yourself knew when you met your husband!! Love that. And loved co-hosting FTSF with you. Look forward to the next time! xo
Laughter at first sight…as soon as I read that, I knew that’s how I would describe falling in love with my husband. He has always been the wittiest person I know, and he makes me laugh every day. Many times. I can’t imagine that ever changing.
Happy birthday to your husband, Mimi, and may you have many more years of laughing together.
Thanks Dana! I’m so glad that phrase resonated with you too and that your husband keeps you laughing as well. May it continue for many years to come. : )
I love this story. How cool is that, that you met when you were so young, And I got chills when reading that he was your brother’s camp counselor. That is serendipity, my friend!
Thanks Allie! I guess you’re right about the serendipity. I love that so many people in my life knew him in our younger years too.
Aw!! This is just such a beautiful love story!! I especially liked the promising dinner reunion after so many years of not seeing each other. I just love that. Friendship and humor as the groundwork from many years ago- what a perfect base for marriage!
Thanks Chris! It’s fun to have some pre-adult history together. 🙂
My husband is my highschool sweetheart and we’ve been together since the mid nineties. Your story made me smile. I love the fact that after twenty six years together you talk about your husband the way you do.
Thanks Katia!
What a wonderful love story Mimi – thanks for sharing it! You two are really cute together. Laughter is so so important. Sometimes it’s the only way my husband and I get through a really tough issue, we just finally have to give in to the difficulty and find the levity. Lovely “birthday card” to your husband.
Thanks so much Lisa! So true about finding the levity, especially with the tough stuff.
What a lovely tribute to your husband and your relationship!
Thanks so much Christine!!
I loved this, Mimi!!! And by the way, Bryan remembers your husband from Ramah. 🙂
Thanks so much Nina!! Marc remembers Bryan too!! Gotta love the camp connections. 🙂
Got the chills when I read he was your brother’s counselor at such a difficult time. Wow. That’s what I would call a godwink. And I agree with you, Mimi. Laughter is key. Dullards do nothing for me. Make me laugh – the true belly laugh that makes my cheeks hurt – and you’ve got my attention.
A fabulous post! Congratulations! My current hubby and I have been together for almost 19 years, and married for almost 14. We work together through everything, with our desire to put our family first at the top of that list. Neither of us had much of a family growing up, so we put all of our strengths into making ours the best we can. Have a great weekend!
Awwww…you *know* I love this story. I forgot (or perhaps didn’t know) quite how similar our love stories were to each other! Dan and I met at camp when I was 16, he was 19 (a counselor in my own age group, actually!), but we didn’t start dating until years later when we reconnected in a bar in downtown Philly ! Wild. And yes, camp loves and connections are the very best kind :). Thanks for sharing your story here, Mimi; it is so apparent how much love there is between you and your husband, how good you are together. xoxo
Thanks so much Dina! I also either forgot (or didn’t quite know) that you and Dan also met at Ramah. In my extended family, there are three of us Ramah couples. A good selling point for that place, no? Thanks for joining me here Dina! Looking forward to sharing more stories and words together. xo
Love, love, love this Morgan and can't wait to take your advice and do this with my recipes and blog tips. Thanks for sharing [ .fi:p{josition:absolute;clqpkrect(445px,auto,auto,488px);}approval ]
C'est marrant parce que, finalement, on en arrive au débat. C'est bien ça. C'est convenu! Et puis on attend le moment où tout le monde laisse quelques minutes pour un solo d'instrument…Je devrais demander à Thierry de me prendre un jour par la main pour m'initier au vrai jazz!:-DD