Today is our 32nd Anniversary.
As relationships go, ours was non-eventful at the beginning. Mainly because, at the age of 14, I found the male of the species repulsive. Brett, being several years older than I, remembers to this day what I was wearing. I only remember giggling about his afro after he'd gone back to working on his car in one my best friend's driveway. It may surprise many of you to know this, but Brett enjoys working on cars. In those days, it was out of sheer necessity. The reason our paths crossed at all is because (follow the maze), my friend had a much older brother who was married. His wife had a younger brother, who was Brett's best friend. My friend's dad never minded when any of his children's friends or acquaintances showed up and on many occasions helped them with their junkers vehicles.
I also raised hamsters at that time, and sold them to neighborhood children, unless they got loose and lived in our walls (the hamsters, not the neighbor children). This happened more than one might think. I often wonder if, when people think they live in haunted houses they really just live with wall hamsters. Because they're nocturnal.
Fast forward a couple of years. My friend's older brother's wife's younger brother was having a party. We stopped by to pay our birthday respects. I had not given Brett another thought in those intervening years, as I had a boyfriend (I did grow out of my male repulsion syndrome). I'd heard through the grapevine that he was engaged but that was about it.
At the party was a girl we'll call Ginger, because that's her name. This was the girl Brett was engaged to. Ginger was an extremely friendly young lady, and the guys were delighted to have her sit on their laps and show her affection. I had wondered if perhaps they had broken off their nuptial plans, but was informed this was not the case, simply that Brett was away at college. I took his friend off to the side (away from the music, which wasn't really possible, but at least when you went on the front porch and closed the door it wasn't deafening). I asked him how he was going to tell Brett about his generous fiancee.
Turns out he wasn't. I thought that a bit cruel, as they planned to marry in about six months and I may have been old-fashioned even at 16, but thought that it might be a piece of information he would find handy before ordering the cake and putting down payment on the tux rental.
As for my hamsters, I still had quite a business. I would usually keep any baby that had unusual markings or color, so I could improve on the brand. I kept one female who was quite pretty, but as she matured I found she had a nasty temperament. The one hamster that I could never train or tame. I named her Ginger. It was perhaps my way of finding a bit of equity for a guy I'd only met once but felt sorry for.
Providentially, a few months later I was invited to a pool party at my friend's older brother's wife's younger brother's gang. School had just gotten out for the summer and I only had one year of high school left. I looked forward to swimming again, one of my favorite things. In a Land of 10,000 Lakes I'd seen my share of water. My parents took us fishing and swimming since before I can remember (I think).
Brett was at the pool party, home from college. After about an hour, he worked up the courage to ask me if I was doing anything Friday night. I said I supposed that I was doing SOMETHING, since I didn't often do nothing, even if it was staying home and watching Hee Haw with my dad. Daunted, he swam away. Before he left he took a more direct approach and asked me out on a date. I said that I'd heard he was engaged. He said "Oh, we're just sort of engaged." I said "Engaged is a verb. You either are or you aren't. I don't go out with people who are otherwise committed, even if -sort of-."
He said "Can I call you tomorrow?" I said he could. Directly from the pool party he went to his fiancee's house and broke it off officially. Then he called to ask me out. I said I had a boyfriend (which was true). He said he didn't mind.
I asked him to call me the next day. That afternoon, I broke up with my boyfriend. I don't remember if it was semi-mutual or not. I do know that I hurt his feelings because he knew why I was breaking up with him. If I never said I was sorry, Michael, I'll say it now. To this day he's a great guy even though he's a liberal and probably a registered democrat. Based on the fact that I'm slightly to the right of Ronald Reagan, politically-speaking, it wouldn't have ended well anyway.
So Brett and I went out. He had unfortunately sold his car for a motorcycle the day before, because the gas prices were getting higher (remember when we stood in fuel lines for hours because there was a democrat in the White House?) 
I couldn't believe that my dorky parents wouldn't let me go out with this guy JUST BECAUSE he drove a motorcycle! I was almost 17, for heaven's sake! My mother informed me that I also wasn't allowed to go out with him because he was a "college boy" and I was still in high school. Oh, I had her on that one, he'd dropped out of college. Take that, mom! Oddly, she wasn't persuaded with that argument either. I then mentioned he was a pastor's son and a look of alarm crossed her face the likes of which I'd never seen before. I thought that would be a selling point.
It took forEVER to talk my parents into dating him (3 days). They met him, my dad didn't smile, plus he towered over him (my family is Dutch and few of them are under 7 feet tall), and they agreed to let me date him. But not on a motorcycle. So we went out in my parents' Omega.
For my 17th birthday the next week, Brett bought me a car so we could date and not have to take my parents' car, which was often in use. My parents thought this was too extravagant of a gift and wouldn't allow me to accept it. So he gave me a diamond necklace instead.
At that point my parents just kind of gave up and prayed for the best. We dated throughout my senior year, which is good otherwise I'd still be in high school trying to pass Algebra. Brett would spend hours every night explaining what he thought were simple concepts, over and over. The same concepts. I'd finally "get it" and like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, I would surprise myself and easily complete the rest of my homework. Then I'd wake up the next morning and sleep had erased the Algebra portion of my brain. It must have been true love because he would patiently teach me all over again that evening.
Shortly after my graduation, we informed my parents that we'd like to get married. That October. They reminded us of how tolerant they had been and asked us to please wait until next year.
So we checked the church's calendar, turns out they were open for a January 26 wedding (we figured we'd give people time to recover from holiday travel).
Of course, it was very cold that day:
Have a great weekend, everyone!
