Valentine’s Day 2001 was the most unforgettable day in my life. It was the day that I met my wife. I got to class a few minutes late. There were only two chairs empty. The one I chose was right next to a beautiful red-haired girl with luscious green eyes and a peaches-and-cream complexion. As I quietly slid into my chair, she glanced at me with a broad smile and then went back to taking copious notes. I tried to stay focused on the teacher’s lecture, but my mind kept wandering back to my beautiful classmate. For the next fifty minutes, my mind was thinking about how to talk to my red-haired classmate.
When class was over, I looked at Georgia, whose name I didn’t know at that moment, and introduced myself. “Hi, my name is Bob.” As we started talking, I felt that she was as interested in me as I was in her. We went to our campus cafeteria for a little lunch and a long talk about our interests and dreams. I began to see that we were interested in similar things: traveling to Egypt, hot, spicy foods, ancient history, and anthropology. We stayed in the cafeteria for five hours just talking and talking and talking. After that, we went to her apartment and listened to some music until Midnight. What a day.
For the next month, we met and talked every day at least two to three hours about everything imaginable. I never thought that I could talk with anyone for such a long time about anything. Neither of us was usually very talkative, but when we got together, not anyone or anything could stop us from talking. We went out every weekend, and sometimes during the week. We enjoyed each other physically, mentally, spiritually, and socially.
When summer came, Georgia went to her parents’ home in Northern California, and I went to be with my family in Southern California. We talked on our cell phones for at least three hours every summer day. We missed each other greatly, but thought it was good to be with our families during summer.
When we returned to college in September, we thought about moving in to live together, but decided against that until we got married. Maybe this was old-fashioned, but it seemed the best way for us, regardless of what others were doing. For Thanksgiving, I went to meet her parents. At Christmas, she came to meet my parents. Both parents were very warm and happy for us. These happy, family moments corroborated our own feelings.
As things worked out, we did get married on Valentine’s Day, 2002, the first anniversary of our very first meeting. Every day of our lives is another Valentine’s Day.
