How I Met Your Mother

It was December 6th, 2003. I had long hair again. I had grown my hair out over the course of the previous year or better in the same style that I had had through the latter three years of high school. It wasn't too popular of a hair style then, but acceptable nonetheless. It definitely wasn't in style in 2003. Not hardly, but I didn't care.

It was about 1:00 AM if I remember right and I was playing a game of cards called "Spit" with my friend, Gabe, over at Shannon's house. Shannon told us that her friend Jodi was coming over. Then the two of them proceeded to tell me about her not even attempting to conceal the fact that they thought that we would be a good match. Again, I didn't really care.

I had this picture in my head for the future and it was Jacob coming home after school in his car, and I'd be in the garage or yard working on something. Just two guys living their lives. I couldn't fathom anything else, really. So, the prospect of meeting a girl who my friends thought that I would like didn't really interest me.

Then, this girl enters the room. Despite all of what I just told you, she captured my full attention as she walked across the room, found a chair while still talking to Shannon, greeted Gabe, and then finally made eye contact with me. My brain had failed to complete a thought throughout that time. It didn't start working again until after we were introduced. My first thought afterward was, "I really like this girl." The thought immediately following that one, though, was "Yeah, but she's out of my league."

As the night (morning) went on, the four of us had a good time just sitting around talking. Shannon's next door neighbor, Adam, even came over and hung out with us for a while. However, the time finally came when some sleep was going to have to get slept. I had a truck to go buy at 9:00 in Republic, a 1959 Ford F-100, and I was going to have to drag Gabe out of bed to drive me out there so that I could drive it back. I wanted to see Jodi again, but I didn't know how to go about making that happen without being blatantly obvious about it. We were parting ways and I could feel the opportunity slipping from my fingers. To delay, I offered my hand in a formal handshake while telling her that it was nice meeting her. She took my offer and repeated it back to me with a smile. The words we spoke played no role in our communication in that brief moment for it was all in the handshake. A handshake mutually prolonged to let each other know of our interest in the other. Not so delayed to be terribly transparent, just long enough to be unmistakably noticed. Then, with just as much subtlety as the handshake, came the graceful release that included an ever-so-light, almost imperceptible grazing of her fingertips across my palm as our hands separated.

There was no doubt, at that moment, that I would see her again. I didn't know how, when or where. I just knew.

Posted in: autobiography,family,love,marriage