41 Random Thoughts

Today I turn 41 and I am so thankful to be 41.  I am not scared, embarrassed, or nervous about being 41.  My days are numbered and I see each one as another opportunity to glorify God, apologize, fix my wrongs, make steps forward, love my family, serve those whom God puts in my path, make a difference in the lives of those God crosses my path with, and grow in my relationship with my heavenly Father and those around me.  Overnight I have come to realize I am an older woman God speaks of in Titus 2.  I am not the oldest woman but I am definitely not the youngest.  I am still learning.  Yet I can encourage.  A wise woman once told me that I would always be an older woman to my girls and I have enjoyed encouraging them but I now also know that as I move in and out of seasons of my mothering, I am not to neglect those coming behind me.  Sitting here on my birthday, I have 41 random thoughts.

#41~Pizza is always better with an ice cold Coke.  Not Coke Zero.  Not Diet Coke. Not Cherry Coke.  And definitely NOT Pepsi.  There it's off my chest.

#40~Babies won't always be babies.  Be with them while they are.  Love them.  Hold them.  Sing to them.  They won't always be up in the middle of the night.  Try to treasure those moments.  Pray for them when you feel like you don't have an ounce left.  Funny how a prayer to the Creator of life, can put just enough fuel in the tank to take the next moment with patience.

#39~An hour run in the dark is better than just one more hour of sleep.  I never regret a run but I have always regretted trading one for sleep.

#38~Having a teenage son is a great thing.  It doesn't have to be an "Oh you just wait" kind of time.  Do your teaching and training way before he has to look down at you to look at you and it can be a joy.

#37~As a piggy back to number #38....even when you think you have disciplined your toddler for the same thing 15 times in one day.....discipline your toddler for the same thing 15 times in one day if that is what is needed for him to learn.  It's ok to say, "I love you but you may not behave this way."  Don't ever stop teaching and training.

#36~Even when you don't feel like you are, be a brick wall.  Say it out loud.  Your kids need you to be a brick wall and one day they may thank you for it.

#35~Don't count to three.  Take care of their behavior before you say 1.  Cars don't care if you are only on number 2 when they run over a runaway child in the street, fire is as hot on 1 as it will be on 3, a knife is just as sharp on 1, and a pool is just as deep.  If your child can obey by "2 1/2...you better come here," they can obey the first time.  Teach your children first time obedience.  Your requests don't always have the luxury of waiting until 3.

#34~Get up with your husband to see him off to work.  No one likes to walk around a dark quiet house.

#33~On that note, smile at him when he walks in the door...and a genuine one at that.  It's amazing what a smile conveys...even if your day has been hard.  Chances are...his was hard too.

#32~Clean feet before getting into bed makes you sleep better...a whole bath is better but at the very least, the feet.  Not sure if this is a proven fact, but I can not go to bed with dirty feet.

#31~I bleed maroon.  Texas A&M is my favorite place on earth.

#30~The sound of a jet spooling up can make me cry.

#29~There's not much sweeter than a child's prayer.

#28~When you do have to discipline your children, make sure you always tell them you are only doing it because you care about the young man/woman they become.  Say, "I love you too much to let you behave this way."  The Bible says that a parent that doesn't discipline, hates their child.  I want them to know, they are my job.  It is my job to teach and train them.

#27~It's my job to work myself out of a job.

#26~When your sons do something helpful or kind, tell them how much one day their wife will love and appreciate them when they do that.

#25~Teach your girls that a lady never purposely draws attention to herself.. in the way she dresses, acts, talks, etc.

#24~Teach your girls to make kissing knees when they sit down, to have self-control, and to speak like a lady.  Never buy them a dress that they can't sit like a lady...even if they are sitting like a lady.

#23~Sometimes a bowl of "fun cereal" at night is the perfect end to a hard day.

#22~Teach your boys and girls how to clean a bathroom, make a simple meal, do laundry.

#21~Boys should hold doors open for girls, older people, ....and generally anyone.

#20~Children should look adults in their eyes when they are speaking to them and should not interrupt an adult conversation.  You don't have to teach them yes ma'am and no sirs, but please teach them not to say, "Yea."

#19~I love to see red-faced, sweaty boys working in yards to earn summer money.  It teaches them responsibility and not to shy away from hard work.

#18~Home should be a child's safe place to land...and your man's.

#17~Baseball games and dance recitals are more fun to watch if you see your own sweet faces up there.

#16~My love and appreciation for my mother grows with every passing day and moment.

#15~Coffee is God's gift to my mornings. Even better coffee and my Bible on my front porch in the fall.  I love it.

#14~My marriage was instantly sweeter, stronger, and more fun once I learned that every thought in my head doesn't have to come out of my mouth.  I'm busy teaching my 14 year old the same thing.

#13~I secretly love my June Bug.  Thanks to my little sister Megan.

#12~A run is so much more fun with your oldest sister.

#11~God has blessed me with four best friends in my life (not counting my sisters or hubby)....one when I was 6, one my sophomore year at A&M, one when we started TBS and one in our first squadron.  One has passed away, one forgave me for a stupid choice of mine in high school and our friendship is stronger because of it, one walked me through every moment of college, and one just gets me, still.  I don't talk to any of them near enough but when we do, it's like we never missed a day.

#10~I love making cookies.

#9~Yellow cake and chocolate frosting can only truly be enjoyed with your three sisters.  Just once in your life, lick the frosting out of the tub in the parking lot of the grocery store.  Don't tell anyone.  Watch their faces when they go to frost the cake. I love my three sisters. Each of them for such different reasons.

#8~As soon as your eyes open in the morning, praise and thank God for allowing another day to begin.  No matter what you face that day.  No day is promised but everyday is a gift.

#7~Read bedtime stories to your kids.  Even when they're 14.  The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is so much more fun enjoyed together.

#6~Being late is one of my biggest pet peeves.

#5~For that matter, so are mean people.

#4~I have learned the hard way some people will not forgive.  As far as it depends on me, I am at peace with everyone I know; it took me years to do that but I have.  I have apologized, asked for forgiveness, and waited.  I can't control then what they do beyond that.

#3~My life is sweeter by the 5 people God has placed in my home.  I love my four kids.  I truly LIKE my husband.  My house has laughter and fun.  It's not always perfect and we have our moments, but my life is sweet.  And I am thankful.

#2~I am a blood-bought, born again child of God.  Jesus Christ is my life.  I want that statement to be true of my thoughts, words, and actions every day.  At the end of my life, I hope that is what they say about me....oh and that I loved my husband and loved my kids.

#1~I am joyful.  In my heart, I am joyful.  Today, I am thankful to be 41.

Jitter's Purpose

Jitter Bug

January 2012-August 2013

"But WHY did she have to die, Mom?"

The questions had been coming since Jitter's passing Friday night.  The conversations had been easy, sweet, and comforting.  There were many hugs, lots of tears, and funny stories.  Who knew a small, Chinese dwarf hamster could have meant so much to a 9 year old little girl.  

We said goodbye to Jitter Bug Friday night.  After discovering a large tumor under her chin on Thursday, watching her suffer through the night and next day, her passing was a relief in many ways.  But it still did not make it easy for a little girl who had loved this hamster.  

God is good though and the conversations that followed were sweet.  We talked so much about death, our fallen world, our sin, our faith in Jesus Christ, and heaven.  We pondered on how it must have been in the garden and how God never intended for this kind of death and suffering to be a part of His Creation and how it would all be right again in Heaven.  All of these questions of the "why," of Jitter's death were so easy for me to answer. 

It wasn't until the "what" question, did she cause me to sit and ponder.

"What was Jitter's purpose Mom?  If everything has a purpose, what was hers?" 

I had never really bonded with Jitter.  She was too much like a rodent and she nibbled on fingers in her first few weeks of being a Fitzgerald.  I knew I was done with her then.  Lillie Grace had asked for a hamster for several months and when her 8th birthday rolled around, her Daddy knew exactly what to get her.  Enter Jitter Bug Fitzgerald.  At first, she was a novelty and all four kids loved her, played with her, and were fascinated by her.  One by one though the newness wore off, for everyone except Lil.  She loved Jitter and would play with her for hours.  She loved to put her in her ball and watch her roll outside in the grass.  She made obstacle courses for her to run through and she knew her favorite treats such as grapes and cucumbers.  It was her responsibility to clean her cage each week, check her food and water, and make sure she had time outside of her cage to play.  Lillie took her job very seriously.  She never failed to remember when a week had passed, she played with her daily, and talked to her constantly.  Jitter had grown fond of Lillie too and Lillie had the only hands she would not bite.  Lillie could hold her for hours and Jitter would be very content.  

What was her purpose?  Simple.  For Lillie.

God used Jitter to grow my sweet girl.  She matured in so many ways taking care of this sweet, big-eyed rodent....ahem...hamster.  God used her to teach Lillie responsibility.  Jitter was cared for better then I ever could've.  In the beginning, when I took responsibility for the cleaning of her cage, I often forgot.  I would've gone weeks had it not been for sweet reminders from my girl.  Jitter taught Lillie a softer side of herself.  My brave, independent girl needed someone to be dependent on her.  Someone was counting on her and for the first time she had to think of someone other than herself.  She learned how much her siblings loved her.  One cried with her, one wrote her a poem and drew a picture, and one provided the hug she needed at just the right moment.  She honored God in the way she cared for one of His creatures.  She learned about life....and about death.  She learned that somethings can't be fixed.  She learned that sometimes the hurt in loving something is worth the time spent loving.  Her eyes were opened to the reality that everyone around her has an end and to spend what time she has loving those around her.  Jitter had a purpose.  I can't know every purpose God had planned in bringing Jitter into the Fitzgerald family, but He's allowed me to see some.  

As I pondered these things on the front steps with my first born girl, I was thankful for the little rodent.  I was thankful that she had been allowed to be a Fitzgerald and that Jitter would forever be a part of Lillie's memory.  Before I could voice any of these realizations....

"I know her purpose Mom."

I looked into her tear filled eyes.

"She needed to know how Fitzgerald's love."

Open Eyes and a New Life

April 24, 2000-Logan and I saw him off from the Savannah airport.  Very different from the last two goodbyes, there were no tears shed.  I had shed my last.  I had none left.  He was leaving to return from a two week R&R back in the states to the Western Pacific.  It had been such a hard visit for both of us.  I was jaded, alone, and hopeless.  I couldn't believe this was now my life.  My eyes had been opened from the wonder-filled, young Marine wife, to the bitter, lonely single mother.  The new life sitting next to me had opened my eyes to the path my life had taken and what I felt lay ahead.  Loneliness.  Goodbyes.  Long nights. Deployments.  Drinking.  Deployment stories.  Everything seemed to be swirling around me.  This was not the glamorous life I had envisioned.  Married to an f18 pilot.  The fast life.  The fun.  The parties.  It all seemed to be an extension of college.  Until this new little life showed up.  Logan Patrick Fitzgerald.    He made me pause for the first time.  He stopped me in my tracks and I felt the question pierce my heart, "What are we doing?"  What was I doing?  This isn't what I wanted for him, for me.  Patrick left when he was 6 weeks old.  Came home at 3 months.  Left 6 months later.  I was a single mother. 12 hours from my family and a lifetime away from my husband.  I didn't want this fast paced party lifestyle.  I was done.  I was done with the Marines.  I was done with Beaufort. I was done with pilots. I was done with him.  I had all but come to the conclusion I didn't want to be here when he got home.

April 25, 2000-Found myself at a playgroup on base.  My best friend was home visiting and most of these women were just acquaintances.  Not really sure why I went then.  I know now.  Logan and I were sitting alone and I was faintly aware of the conversation behind me.  A girl I knew only from the neighborhood was sharing with another wife how she knew she would spend eternity in heaven.  I remember the shocked answer from the wife across from her, "That's kind of arrogant don't you think?"  Her's?  "It would be arrogant if I had done something, but it is only because of what Jesus did FOR me."  I don't remember much more but I do remember the joy I sensed from her.  She had such a peaceful way about her that I was drawn to.  I left very intrigued by her statement but still very much alone.

April 28, 2000~I was crying again.  I had been crying the whole morning.  I didn't know what was wrong.  I hadn't talked to Patrick.  I was so very alone.  Logan was in the living room in the middle of the floor playing but I didn't want to go near him.  I was so scared.  I didn't know what to do.  I had hit rock bottom.  When my phone rang, I remember praying it was my husband but the person on the other end would change the whole direction of my world.  It was Ann Yingst.  The very woman from the playgroup.  I remember her telling me she searched to find my number, she knew we didn't know each other very well, but that I had been on her heart all week and was there anything she could pray for me?  I broke down crying.  I remember telling her everything about our visit, how I was feeling, and how I desperately wanted out of this lifestyle.  Her next question not only shocked me but was exactly what I needed to hear.  She asked me if I knew Jesus as my Savior.  Normally this question would send me reeling about how yes, I went to church, yes, I knew Jesus, and yes, I was a good church going person.  But on this day, I wanted more.  My heart was aching to hear what she would say.  She simply and gently walked me through the plan of salvation.  She shared the Gospel.  That Christ died for my sins, He was buried and He rose again.  All of this muck.  All of this hurt.  All of this loneliness was because of sin.  Sin that would separate me from a relationship with my Father.  I remember listening and as she talked my eyes were opened.  It was like the blinders were pulled off.  There was such a joy and a release.  I remember kneeling right there in the kitchen asking God to forgive me and asking Jesus Christ to be my Savior.  "What do I do now?"  "Grow.  God wants you to know Him."  I got in my car and drove around the corner to her house and sobbed as she hugged me and kept telling me over and over, "You have a new life."  My problems didn't go away.  My loneliness did.  My desire to give up did.  My hopelessness did.  On this day my eyes were opened and God gave me a new life.

13 years later.  I am married to a godly man.  I have two sons who are growing in their personal relationship with their Savior.  My oldest daughter has accepted Christ and shows such a want to to learn about Him.  My youngest daughter believes as much as she knows to and I pray for her daily to let it be real.  I am so thankful.  

Empty Arms

My arms were empty tonight.  As they have been for several years now.

We went to Candlelight service at our church tonight and I was surrounded by new moms, all with their arms full.  Full with babies.  Some were cradled, some on hips, some making eyes at those lucky enough to be behind them.  Full arms.  One of my favorite seasons of being a mom.  

I'm out of that season now.  I know people told me to enjoy it, and I did. But I don't truly remember the last full-arm-moment.  I wish I had remembered to treasure that moment.  To remember the why, the smell, the feel, and the moment.  Those moments lasted for a long time.  But it went fast.  

I stood there tonight surrounded by my "babies."  And empty arms.  I miss my full arms but as I looked at the little young men and women around me, I am enjoying my empty arms.  I still glance a little long at the women around me with full arms, but I know that if I focus on times past, I will miss the moments of now.  So I welcome my empty arms.  Proverbs 31:25 "....and she smiles at the future."

As we sang those old hymns, so rich in picture of that night so long ago, I couldn't help but think of Mary.  That night, her arms full, full of joy. She not only cradled her baby, but she cradled God Himself, the sweet Savior.  I know she treasured those moments, "But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart." Matthew 2:19     I imagine her savoring his smell, his sweet face, his sounds. Unlike so many countless mothers, Mary wasn't told to enjoy it.  It goes fast.  No.  She was told He would be the Son of the Most High, the Son of God.  Simeon told her that a sword would pierce her own soul.  He was to be the Salvation for all people.  Mary had reason to be fearful of the future.  But I don't imagine her to be that way.  I believe she smiled at the future.  Standing on the promises of God.  In that season, in that moment, she had full arms.  She treasured those moments when He was cradled, safe in her arms.

She was purposeful in her teaching and as her arms became empty, she watched the young Man she helped to teach and train.  I am sure as she watched His life unfold, she missed her full arms but she saw the purpose of her empty ones.  He was put here for a purpose, for all people....for her.  I can't imagine her season of empty arms.  I can't even fathom the heartache she faced.  But I do know how thankful she was for empty arms. His empty arms.  Stretched out for her.  For me.  

Tonight, my house is quiet.  I am thankful for empty arms.  Mine, because I am in a season of mothering that is so wonderfullly fulfilling.  I am watching personalities grow and purposes more clear.  I am thankful for Mary's empty arms. She cradled and held and loved, full arms, until it was time to let Him go.  I am thankful beyond words for my Lord's empty arms, stretched out on a cross to be my substitute.  He had nothing from this world to give.  His arms empty. But wholly mine.  

I pray for empty arms this year.  Arms with nothing of this world to give, only myself.  Arms willing to take whatever the Lord has purposed for me.  Arms raised in total surrender to His Will for me.  I smile at the future.  And at empty arms.      

My Last First Date Part 4

Neon Moon

 

We never "officially" made it official, but it was.  We were a couple.  Everyone knew it by then.  We were kind of the last to know, the last to realize how "unofficially" we had become "official."  The transition to him being a friend, to him being my "official," was sort of strange.  The same guy I had been hanging out with for so long, laughing, joking, was now the guy I got nervous 10 minutes before he was suppose to pick me up.  The guy I got excited to see walking through the Quad toward me. The guy I thought about a whole lot more than I ever had.  It was as if my feelings changed overnight. 

 

I still remember the moment that change was glaringly obvious.  We had gone to Houston to go ice skating.  I had never been and he was going up there to sign papers for his Marine Corps commitment.  At the time it was just a convenient excuse for us to make the quick trip to Houston to go on a very cool date.  Looking back now, that signature would change the entire "look" of my future. 

Looking back now, that signature was my everything in a sense.  

In the moment,however, I was going ice skating with a guy I really liked. Arriving in Houston, we both smelled a smell.  Not being hard-of-smelling, I kept mentioning how bad it smelled.  By the time we reached the city limits, his car was a peace pipe.  We barely pulled into a Pizza Hut and stopped the car.  Deciding it just needed to cool off, we stayed, ordered dinner, and enjoyed our conversation.  It was obvious trying to leave, the car was not going with us.  And thus began our adventure that night in Houston.  So many things happened that night and yet I don't remember much of the details.  I do remember some...it was now very dark and we were very stranded in a very bad area of Houston (pre-cell phones), the car was completely dead and yet, Patrick was completely calm,  and the very sweet Hispanic family, who barely spoke English, staying with us in the parking lot of the Pizza Hut the entire time.  At some point, I remember Patrick saying he was going to get help.  I remember him being gone for a long time and I remember the family staying with me being very worried.  I remember crying and the elderly Mom sitting there hugging me.  I remember feeling completely scared and completely worried about Patrick.  Then the cop car showed up.  Patrick's smiling face in the backseat.  I don't remember the details of that night so much but I do remember how I felt seeing his face.  I still get teared up even as I type remembering that moment.  He climbed out and scooped me into big hug.  He kept telling me over and over through my tears, "I told you I would take care of you. You have to believe me from now on."  He has never gone back on that promise.

 

So my days at A&M quickly became so very sweet.  He was a perfect fit for me in every way. 

 

Correction. 

 

In everyway but one.  He still couldn't dance.  He tried.  He knew how much I loved it and he tried.  We went almost every weekend.  We spent so many nights in the neon lights.  I loved him.  I loved being with him.  But I didn't love dancing with him.  I would have to learn to love to hunt, or fish, or watch the Cowboys.  I guess. 

 

"Let's take Aggie Wranglers," were the second sweetest words he has ever said to me.  "Really?"  I couldn't believe he was agreeing.  I had asked many times before, but taking lessons was not his thing.  But he agreed.  We stood in line, signed up, and were on our way to making this a win-win.  I knew how much he would learn; I just didn't realize how much I would.  

 

We took our first set of lessons with great friends, Erica and Brian, the summer we all stayed at A&M for summer school.  It was so much fun and I was beyond tickled at how quickly he picked it up.  The first night, they split us up into groups of guys and girls to give us the "low down" on two-stepping.  Of course I had taken the class twice already, so I was thinking I had nothing to learn.  It's funny what you learn most when you are the least teachable.

 

She began.  And I listened.  Two stepping is like a language she was telling us.  It is spoken by the dancers in subtle ways and you must learn to "listen" to your partner.  You must learn to anticipate what he will "say."  She continued on about how the longer you dance with someone the more subtle the language will be until it will almost be a seamless dance of subtle motions known only to the two of you.  She was telling us how we had to be willing to let the guys mess up or otherwise, they really wouldn't be leading and we would be the ones making all of the moves.  She explained how it made for an awkward dance and it would never "feel" quite right.  She was also demonstrating how we had to be strong in our motions but not so strong that we stopped him from leading but not so weak that we wouldn't follow.  And so on.

 

When we finally got back as couples, it was awkward.  The steps were awkward.  We were stepping on toes.  Our knees were hitting.  Everything in me wanted to take over.  I had done this before.  I had to fight my reaction when his "subtle" movements to lead were forced and unnatural.  He was learning, but I was learning too.  Even though this was not technically my first class, this was in the sense that I wanted to make this work.  I wanted to see him succeed.  Our first complete night of Wranglers was good for both of us.  So much to learn but going in the right direction.  

 

Our nights at the Hall under those neon lights, soon became dreamy.  He was a terrific dancer, and by God's Grace, I had learned to follow.  She had been right; I could anticipate his movement before he would lead.  We took two more classes after that, and each time I learned that for the dance to be better, I had to learn his ways.  I had to anticipate his movements and I had to constantly have my focus on him.  As the years passed, dancing with him came so natural, so second nature.  We could jump in at any song and move around the dance floor under those neon lights like we had been dancing forever.  Just like our friendship had been and our relationship had become, it was easy.  It was fun. 

 

Now looking back almost 18 years later, I realized how much the dance is so much like our life.  Like those lessons so long ago, I finally learned to let him lead.  I learned, albeit the hard way, to follow.   I have learned to be strong enough to follow his lead but not so strong that I am the one leading.  I have learned to anticipate his movements. Just like that dance, with time, the movements have become seamless between the two of us, movements only the two of us know.  At first in our early marriage, it was awkward and never quite "felt" right, I stepped all over his toes and he messed up at times, but after many of God's lessons, our life is sweet.  After those dance lessons, I fell in love under that neon moon ...and still so thankful for the Dance.

My Last First Date Part 3

My Green Eyes

And so it went....

We had too much fun with one another not to hang out and it always seemed we had schedules perfectly timed to fit in a lunch at the MSC or do laundry at the Jot 59 or Wild and Wooly Wednesdays at Double Dave's Pizza.  I still thought of him as a friend and I so enjoyed hanging out with him.  He was funny, interesting, and it never felt awkward to be with him.  We liked so many of the same things and we had become such good friends. 

Throughout those first weeks, I was really digging into student life at Texas A&M and had no trouble being by myself now.  Now it was a choice to go and do rather than being by myself because I had no choice.  I had groups of friends from Fish Camp and groups of friends from my sorority and groups of friends from my dorm.  It was how I always pictured college life.  I was not interested in dating although a guy had caught my eye from my Fish Camp.  His name was Grey.  He would stop by my dorm window to chat if it was open or would walk me to class a few times.  It always seemed strange, forced, and the conversation was hard.  I always was relieved when Patrick came around or asked me to games.  Our friendship was so very easy.  I liked being with him and it felt right. 

I remember Patrick's very first compliment to me.  Our conversations were usually not too serious and we always joked with one another.  I would learn very quickly that Patrick didn't give out compliments just to give them out. He did not try to flatter with his words and he means what he says. He is not a man of a huge amount of words but you know exactly how he feels.  He has a hard time hiding what his face reveals.  We were deep in conversation when out of the blue, he stopped and said, "I love your beautiful blue eyes."  Nothing romantic, just stating a fact.  In our not-giving-an-inch usual way, I stated a fact back, "They're green."  Without missing a beat, without an apology, without him being embarassed he replies in the same tone, "I love your beautiful green eyes."  His smile says it all; he's funny.  Still is. 

It wasn't until I realized others thought he was funny, did it start to change  how I felt about my "friend."  I was never truly a jealous person.  I never really cared about anyone in a way that I would be jealous.  I have green eyes, but I'm not a green person.  Wasn't a green person.

I knew Patrick's schedule on certain days because we were always meeting to eat lunch, study, or head off campus.  One day, close to where I knew his next class was, I decided to cut him off and say hello.  I still rememer it was in G. Rollie White Stadium, second floor, top of the side stairs. I was a little early, knew he wouldn't be surprised although he wouldn't be expecting me, climbed the stairs and waited outside his classroom for a quick hello.  It didn't take long until students began coming up the stairwell and filing into the classroom.  Student after student but no Patrick.  Thinking maybe he was not going to class for some reason, I began to gather my backpack and things from the floor and I heard voices.  I continued to gather my stuff and listened as the voices got closer.  Then there was giggling.  Talking, but lots of giggling.  The voices were muted through the stairwell, but there was no mistaking the voice.  Patrick was coming up those stairs.  But so was the girl attached to the giggling voice.  Whatever he had said, she thought it to be the funniest thing ever.  They topped the stairs and he immediately caught my eye.  Not a second glance back, he smiled and headed my way.  The girl, obviously disappointed, said something about seeing him in class....with a quick nonchalant wave, his eyes were on mine.  And that smile, I had grown to love. 

I'm not really sure what happened that day.  But it changed.  I knew he was funny.  I realized now, others knew he was funny too.  I didn't like her knowing he was funny.  I didn't like him being funny with her now that I think about it.  This was my bud, my friend, my hang out guy.... My green eyes were suddenly greener than they had been.      

My Last First Date Part 2

Not one dance

 

I'm not quite sure how our "second date" actually came about.  I don't remember the first week of school and I don't remember how we made plans to meet up as a group and go boot scootin', but I DO remember how excited I was.  Two steppin' was my most favorite thing to do in college and I hadn't done much of it at all in the first year at Texas A&M.  In fact, I hadn't done much of anything my first year at A&M.

 

I started my college career with too many ties back home.  The people I knew were 6 hours away.  Far enough to have a hard time getting home especially without a car.   My roommate was an upper classman and never "home."  I spent most of my first year in my dorm room, by myself.  The girls in my hall had all pledged sororities, most were upperclassmen, and all had lives.  They were busy.  I wasn't.  I went to class, the cafeteria, study groups.  That was it.  It was a very challenging year for me.  I was coming off of a busy high school exsistence.  Lots of clubs.  Lots of activities.  Lots of friends.  I was miserable in college.  I was deparately lonely.  I think, looking back on that one year, especially the first semester, it was possibly the loneliest I had ever been.  I spent weekends in my room and weeknights in the library.  I had even applied to LSU for the spring semester, was accepted, and had a dorm assignment.  I wanted my home.  I wanted my life back.  I wanted to be busy again.  

 

I was not a Believer in college but looking back, God's Hand was all over my path, even then.  I see that now. And I am thankful.  It would be a long time before I would come to know Him, but He loved me and He knew I would be sitting here.   

 

Somehow, before I left for Christmas break, I met a friend.  She was the one God used to keep me put.  She was the one who picked me up out of my pit and walked beside me the rest of my freshman year.  She introduced me to new people, taught me to sew, brought me to her house and cooked me meals and more importantly, introduced me to boot scootin'.  She signed me up for Aggie Wranglers, found me a dance partner, and drove me to lessons.  I fell in love.  It was the most fun you could have in College Station, and the best part, her friendship was enough to convince me to giveTexas A&M another shot.  By the end of my second semester, I had been chosen as a Fish Camp Counselor, had a new group of friends, and I met Patrick Fitzgerald.  

 

Going dancing on a Friday night with a big group of friends was exactly what I had in mind for an end to a great first week of my sophomore year of school.  Going in a group assured me plenty of friends to two step with, girls to hang out with, and no one to assume we were on a "date."  I felt like a bird let out of my cage my sophomore year of school.  I knew so many more people, I was in a new dorm, I had pledged a sorority, and my ties back home were not my focus.  

 

Patrick was in the group of friends, a mixture of new sorority sisters and some Corps boys.  Everyone had on their Rocky Mountains and Justin ropers, but my favorite, the guys in their cowboy hats.  Waiting in line to get in, I found myself next to Patrick.  He and I were joking around together and laughing.  We were talking about the first week and all that had gone on since we last talked.  It was still easy.  I liked talking to him, but there was still no draw to him for anything other than a friend.  In fact, I recognized another guy friend up in line that night.  I excused myself from our group and went up in line to chat with him.  I hadn't seen him since the previous semester. We had taken Aggie Wranglers together, gone on a few dates, enjoyed Sunday afternoons at Research Park with his dog, Image.  I distinctly remember Patrick's statement when I finally returned to our group, "You can go on ahead up there with him if you want to."  I was so taken off guard at the slightest hint of seriousness in his tone.  Once I caught his eye, however, his joking smile was there and we laughed, but I never forgot the way his statement sounded.  Whatever I thought I heard, I remember thinking that I was not in this to find a boyfriend and hoping I was wrong about his tone.  (We still laugh at this memory and he admits, he already like me at this point but would never have given me the satisfaction of letting it show.) We talked all the way in, talked as we settled in on two stools off to the side, and talked for the rest of the night.  Good songs would come and go and he never asked me to dance.  I so badly wanted to two step....but he never asked.  We laughed and joked and talked some more, but he never once asked me to dance.  

 

I danced a couple of times that night with some friends that were there and some from our group, but for the most part, I sat and talked and wondered why he didn't want to dance.  I wanted to talk, but I wanted to dance more.   The couples dancing went around and around, passing the very spot that I sat, almost as if taunting me.  I remember Garth Brooks, I Got Friends in Low Places, came on.  Ugh.  I wanted to dance.  As we talked, in the background I could hear the soft shuffling of boots on the dusty dance floor.  I remember feeling frustrated that night.  Not so much with the time I spent with him, but with the songs that came and went.  I felt awkward leaving him there each time I went to dance.  He explained that he couldn't two step well and I'm sure we joked about it.  I know I was bummed. 

 

Our night ended without one dance together.  I knew so much more about him, still thought he was a neat guy, and he was, looked fantastic in a cowboy hat and Wranglers,  but not one dance.  We parted ways  in the parking lot and I climbed into my girlfriend's car and we drove back to campus.  I thought about my night the whole way.  I knew that we would be friends, but that would probably be the last time we would go "dancing" together.  In my opinion, at that moment, life was too short not to dance.