How I met your Dad

I met your Dad at church in a Sunday School class for College and Career.  I was new to the church and had seen him singing in the church choir.  I liked him instantly and decided to meet him.

I was working as a night nurse (11 to 7) shift at a hospital in Virginia Beach.  I had every other weekend off but decided I couldn't wait for a weekend that I was off so the following Sunday (after working all night) I went home and prepared "to meet HIM".  Yes, dear children, I stalked your Dad!  I showered, curled my hair, wore my best dress, sprayed on Shalamar perfume, grabbed my Bible, and headed out the door on my quest to meet my Mr. Wonderful.

I arrived early and eagerly waited for him to show up.  He was late. Class started and after a preliminary welcome, we were encouraged to mingle and meet newcomers.  At last, my moment had come and I started my quest to meet him only to be stopped 4 times by people wanting to meet me.  My momma did not raise me to be rude so I missed my opportunity to meet him.

It was a big class (about 25 people) so we were divided into groups by counting off into groups of four.  I listen to whatever number he said and went directly to his group as soon as we broke up. I sat next to him and marveled at how smart and articulate he was.  (I should add that your mother is attracted to Nerds.)

After class, I asked him if he was going to go to church so I could sit next to him.  He smiled sweetly and said "Yes, I am, I sing in the choir!           ( Rats!  I forgot about that.)   I gave him my best smile but it didn't persuade him to skip choir and sit with me.  So I sat by myself and dozed off and on through the sermon since I had been up all night long.  Hopefully, it looked like I was in deep meditation or prayer!

After church," I lingered longer" in hopes of accidentally bumping into him.  When that didn't happen I decided to give up and go home to bed defeated in my purpose.  When I got to my car, guess who was parked behind me?  Yes, dear children, it was your future father.  God is good!

We talked, I flirted, and then he asked me to join him for lunch!  I forgot how tired I was and instantly agreed.  We went out for pizza and it felt very comfortable talking with him.  We laughed, and conversation seemed to flow in both directions. 

 When the bill arrived he discovered the restaurant didn't take credit cards and he only had a dollar in his pocket.  So yes dear children, I ended up paying for our first date and as I like to remind him....I've been paying for it ever since! 

 We met in March, got engaged in April and were married in July. So you can see that even though your Dad was shy and quiet when we met he definitely was just waiting for me.  We just celebrated our 46th anniversary this year.

Monday Memories....Dadisms

For Mr. Wonderful's birthday I gave him a book called "Dadisms....What Dad says, and what it really Means."

I was hoping it would give him some inspiration to start blogging again. The title started me thinking of what were some Dadisms that were truly unique to Mr. Wonderful.

Before I explain the one that instantly came to my mind let me give you some background of my man. Mr. Wonderful is a planner. He firmly believes that if you "fail to prepare, you prepare to fail!" At any given time he can produce a "Leatherman" multitool, a Swiss Army knief (only on Sundays when he doesn't carry his Leatherman), a cell phone, safety pin or bandaid.

He loves tools and invests heavily in them. He loves to read and has an extensive "How to" library. His favorite item to take while traveling is his "beloved Missionary Vest". The Vest is actually a photographer's vest with multiple pockets and zipper pockets . He liked to wear this vest on missionary trips to carry his passport and other important items that he did not want to get misplaced.

Mr. Wonderful loves Haiti and has gone on 9 short term mission trips there. As a rite of passage, Mr. Wonderful would take each of our children with him to Haiti when they were seniors in high school. It gave our children a view of a very poor third world country and allowed them to see how blessed they actually were.

If you asked any of our children what they remembered about their trip with dad.....all of them will probably say. " I remember Dad asking me a million times, "Where's your passport?"

The funniest part of this statement is that he was the one that carried all our passports. It got to be such a family joke that I would write letters to each child before they left to read while on their trip with dad. The letters would tell them how much they were missed and some of my hopes and dreams for them as they bonded with Dad.

I usually ended each letter with this statement. "Just remember, that when dad asks you where your passport is.....he is actually saying "I love you and don't want to leave you in a foreign country cause I'm afraid of your mother!"

Do you remember any phrases your Dad would say and what it actually meant?

Saturday Photo Hunt....Antiques

This is My Mr. Wonderful standing next to a Gutenberg Bible on display at the New York Public Library. It was printed in 1455 using moveable type. 180 Bibles were produced in 3 years ( the amount of time it would have taken to hand write one copy.) Pretty remarkable accomplishment!

Sticks and Stones.....

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will always stay with me long after any physical healing has occurred."

 OK, so it doesn't rhyme! But if the truth be known words are more hurtful and tend to form your self-image.

 Today in a conversation with Mr. Wonderful, I remembered the frustration of my dad trying to teach me a math concept that I couldn't master. He tried many different ways to explain and even used coins to help visualize the concept without any "light bulb" moment of insight on my part. Finally, in a moment of sheer exasperation he said, " Well, I guess you'll just be in the third grade for the rest of your life!  I adored my dad and unbelievably these are the words I still remember some 50 years later despite having a college degree and being a health care professional.

 Recently my son received some hurtful words from a family member. They were words from a person who has had very little input into his life and quite frankly doesn't know him well enough to correct his behavior. He was hurt and surprised as they came in the form of a Christmas card (so much for peace on earth and goodwill toward men!)

 Being a preacher's wife, I have been blessed with having a short memory and thick skin. The Lord has removed a lot of stinging comments from my memory and fortunately, I rarely know when I'm insulted. I don't look for insults (who wouldn't want to be my friend?) don't expect insults (I expect the best out of everyone) and have come up with the following criteria for handling insults. 1. Is there any truth to what the person has said? 2. Have I been thoughtless or careless with my words? 3. Have I carelessly joked or teased about an issue that is sensitive to that person? 4. Consider the source of the complaint? Is this someone who is significant in my life? Is this someone who has earned the right to speak into my life?

 Now I have a new problem.... overzealous protectors. Sometimes when I choose to extend grace in a situation I have friends and family who pick up the gauntlet and try to defend me. I'm hoping this is the situation that occurred with my son but I will let some time pass to defuse the bomb and confront the offender quietly, personally and face to face.

Daisy Dilemma: How do you handle conflict? Do you drop the bomb and run or do you enjoy confrontation?

Always my favorite Vet....

My favorite Vet

Grandpa Watson
Originally uploaded by peachicken.( I posted this last year, but it bears repeating. I'm on my way to Virginia Beach to visit with the baby in the picture and my mom. Even though 21 years have passed since Dad died I still miss him and subconsciously look for him when ever I go home.)

This is my favorite veteran....My Dad. My dad retired from the US Air Force after 25 years of active duty. He retired on Veteran's Day. Dad retired as a Lt.Colonel and was a veteran of World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

This picture was taken in Berlin, Germany during the 1949 Air Lift. The baby is my oldest sister Barbara. He was handsome, dashing and as you can see from the picture smoking. Dad died of emphysema at the age of 64.