Tim and I never dated before we got married. Saying that even now makes me laugh. Tim and I both grew up around the Covina, California area, but attended different high schools. We belonged to the same church and had seen each other once or twice at different church events. I was the same age as his older sister Patti and never thought of Tim other than as an annoying little brother who was a little geeky and awkward.
We attended the same college but at different times. Tim left the country to live in Central America for two years while I worked at a company in the City of Industry after graduation from college. I developed a best friend who also worked for the same company. She and I did everything together. We had a deep love for the Dodgers and often would ditch work and attend day games. Her name was Susan C.
When I got bored with work, I decided to leave the state for a time and went to live in Kansas and Nebraska. I didn’t find myself in either state, but it was there I fell in love for the first time.
He was a Lieutenant in the Air Force. He worked for the Strategic Air Command in Omaha. I had never felt such passion for a man before in my life. It was heady stuff. His name was Michael D. I had visions of marrying him, moving with him all over the world and living happily ever after. But that was not to be.
Full of hurt and frustration about not being able to continued to pursue a relationship with Michael at that time because of his commitments and mine, I finally went home to San Dimas, where my parents were living at the time. Michael and I corresponded for a while, then I received a marriage announcement from him and was devastated.
My best friend Susan lived in San Dimas. I think she was a little jealous of my time spent away from her because our friendship always seemed a little strained after that. In 1980, Tim purchased his parents home in San Dimas and had moved there and before I returned home from Omaha. Susan and Tim were dating. In fact, on the second day of my return from Omaha, Susan felt sorry for me and invited me along on her and Tim’s date to Disneyland. It was a wonderful night, at least for Tim and me. We had so much in common as we had both moved away from home for a time of self discovery and learning. We talked the entire time comparing our journeys. Susan sat in the front of the car next to Tim in a huff. For the next couple of months, the three of us did all kinds of activities together. We went to the movies, the beach, church activities and parties as a threesome. Tim and I always had plenty to talk about and Susan would most likely endure the evening with a scowl on her face.
Upon my return from Omaha, my good friend Debbie R. got me a job at a furniture manufacturer in the City of Industry and I started work as a secretary to the credit manager. It was a job I really loved. It gave me plenty of time to flirt with the gorgeous salesmen who worked there. The personnel manager knew I was a Dodger fan and offered me box seats for a game.
Now normally, I would have jumped at the opportunity to invite Susan along with me to a Dodger game. She and I were big fans. But for some reason I called Tim on the phone and invited him. He said he would have to meet me there because he didn’t want to come home to San Dimas from North Hollywood, where he was working at the time, and go all the way back to Los Angeles. About the third inning of a rather boring game, the Dodgers were behind as usual, Tim informs me that he had sent Susan a dozen roses and confessed his love for her that very day. My heart felt like it had torn right out of my chest, ripped in two and had the two halves strewn about on the hard cement floor of the stadium. I fiddled with my program and drew a little broken heart on it surrounded by little tear drops. I had no idea that Tim noticed my little drawing and it caused him to think about me and wonder. I left the game in the sixth inning.
The next day was a Saturday and I busied myself cleaning up my mother’s home. Tim called on the phone and wanted to talk. I was curious as to what he wanted, so I invited him over. I was dressed in my shabby work clothes and covered in dust and dirt when he arrived. Sitting down on my couch he gently asked me why I had drawn the little broken heart on my program. I struggled to find the right words to tell him that I loved him. But as we sat there together, and compared our lives, our goals and dreams, he confessed that he felt the same way about me.
Sunday he proposed to me over my mother’s roast beef dinner and in two months, on July 10, 1983, we were married. Oh, by the way, we named our only son Michael!
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