Once Upon a Time . . .

St. George Greek Orthodox Church – The Back Drop To Our Lives (where we met, married and baptized all three of our children)

Once upon a time, circa 1996, an awkward sixteen-year-old girl dressed in a puce, empire-waist, accordion-pleated bridesmaid dress, met a boy.   A dark-haired, dark-eyed, slightly older boy.  Seconds after our initial meeting, we were walking arm in arm down the aisle.  The foreshadowing couldn’t get more obvious.

I have a real-life fairy-godmother.  It was at my godmother’s wedding that she introduced me to her new brother-in-law.  I had recently turned 16 and loved that this good-looking 19 year-old boy, sipping on his alcoholic drink was talking to me! We spent much of the night together.  I listened to him tell me all about university and living on his own.  He told me about his family, the summers at his family cottage, he pointed out relatives and commented on their jerky, wielding movements on the dance floor.  At the end of the night we had made promises to stay in touch and see each other again.

We did see each other a few times.  What happened then, “the lost years”, is interpreted differently by each of us.  He feels that I rejected him and ignored his calls.  I remember it differently.  I remember it being my calls that went unanswered.

In the fall of 2001, just a few days before my 21st birthday, I literally bumped into that dark-haired, dark-eyed boy, in the back alley of a church.  We were gathered to celebrate the baptism of my godmother and her husband’s twin babies.  The re-meet was slightly awkward.  Lots of time had passed and neither of us sure what to say to the other.

We spent much of the lunch making polite small talk but when I went to leave, he pulled the ultimate slickster move and slid his crisp, newly printed business card into my hand and suggested that I call him the next time that I was in the city.  I didn’t think that I would, but did.

I spent much of that last year of my university days driving the 90 minutes between my run-down student house in the small town I attended school and his urban condo in the “big city”.

The rest is history.  We’ve been married for 6 years and have three little boys and have been blessed with so many things to be thankful for.


According to an online Forbes survey, 4% of people meet their future spouse at a wedding.  You’ll have to take my word for it. I can’t seem to find the link to prove it!




6 thoughts

    1. Glad that I can be enriching lives everywhere with my life story 😉

      Did you remember to enter to win the FREE date night? If only babysitting were included . . . sigh . . .

  1. Oh, great story! It also makes me think (in my usual immature fashion) of Four Weddings and a Funeral, where that bridesmaid whines “but you don’t understand, I was promised sex!”. If four percent meet a spouse at a wedding, I wonder what the figures are on wedding hook-ups… sorry, sorry, inappropriate comment on a sweet romantic story.

    1. That’s funny! For some reason, I am betting the number of hook-ups at weddings far exceeds the number of resulting marriages 🙂 The bigger question: how many of those drunken, lonely hook-ups result in the need for baby carriages?

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