Our Story, Chapter 1.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I thought that on the occasion of our third anniversary, I would begin sharing our story.

I know first-hand that there was a helluva' lotta' curiosity surrounding our "courtship" if you will.  I totally get it.  Had I been a student (as opposed to THE student) at the college at the time, I would've had a ton of questions resembling, "Huh?!  Whaaat?  How?  Who?!  No way!"  Maybe yours went something like that.

(Although, those of you who were just plain mean--and there were some of those--I'll never understand.  But, that's probably none of you.)

Or maybe you didn't go to the college and you just wonder how I had four older children in such a flash while maintaining my narrow hips.

"She must not've posted the pregnancy pictures on Facebook."  Naturally that would be the explanation.

So, whichever school of questioning you find yourself in (or if you don't even care), here goes.  And just chapter 1.  Chapter 2 will come some other time.  My shameless plug to keep you coming back (and because I don't feel like typing the entire thing).

Let's start at the very beginning.  A very good place to start.  When you read you begin with A, B, C... ah, I'm getting off track.  Where was I?

I'm at college.  I was a freshman (you see?  I'm going way back.) with a schedule-in-hand for my second semester classes.  Pan down.  The schedule read "New Testament" with a certain Dr. Hunt.  This guy required that you make a short trek across campus to buy his specially constructed notes that would aid you in your note-taking.  So thoughtful.

So my friend and I headed on over to buy the aforementioned notes.  Small, red, camp-resembling building...  Here we are.  Enter office.  There he sits.  My first observations?  He's young and he's handsome.  He pushes back from his desk and gives us a smile.  He's suave too (seriously honey, you were... are... suave).

"Hi, I'm Bridget." I say walking forward and holding out my hand.
"I'm Steve."

He's totally hip too, requiring that we call him by his first name instead of the official title.  No crotchety, pen in shirt pocket, poor fashion taste professors in this room!

He comments on my friend's last name, a Swedish one (those Swedes).  Maybe asks us where we're from?  I don't know, details get fuzzy and this was, after all, six years ago.

We leave, notes in hand, and probably both comment on the fact that we thought he was cute, seemed sweet, and was, what was it again, oh yes, suave.

I soon discover that this little pseudo-crush I had was shared by many of the female students.  You only had to mention his name and another crush-confession would come out.  Totally harmless though, the guy was married, and come on... he was a professor after all.  Student-professor relations... that didn't happen here.

I take his class, skipping only a few, but basically consider it one of my favorite classes.  Tell my Mom about him.  Take a few tests.  Turn in some homework.  He hands back homework, smiles at me as he passes, I turn to giggle at my friend sitting next to me (true story) who also has a crush on him because I knew she'd be a little jealous.  And so the spring semester goes.

Fast forward through summer.  Fall semester, sophomore year.  I take another class of his and contemplate a religion major in addition to my English major simply because I enjoy his class so much (pseudo-crush aside, he's a great teacher).  He's a fresh voice, makes you laugh, is really quite smart, but, perhaps best of all, challenges you and makes you think in new ways about religion (sometimes to the dismay of more conservative students... but for me, it fit).

In October, he missed a few classes (eventually missing the entire second-half), and I suppose it quickly came out that his wife had cancer.  Soon after, we discovered that she was really very sick.  Prayers went out from all corners of the campus.  Four young kids--the youngest being only two--made it all the more grave.  The campus, in my opinion, was consumed by it.  I was literally consumed by it.  There was little else I could think of throughout the whole ugly time.

From discovering she was sick to her death, was only about one month.  Crazy.

Chapter 1 isn't entirely happy.  But it eventually gets there and this is a big part of the whole thing.

Fast forward again.  Junior year.  Early on, by way of my older sister who was in a small group through her church where Steve also went, I discover he's in the market for a babysitter.  I had thought so much about him and his kids (who I didn't know at all) over the year that I really wanted that job.  I really did.

So, I got it.

pretty early on in my b-sitting days

So, that's where Chapter 1 ends.  


  1. love it! addicted! fabulous writing style! canny, fresh, insightful! keep it coming bridGET!
    love linds

  2. ahhh...this brings back so many memories. i remember seeing steve for the first time after shannon passed away and he said "hi ahnika" and i felt so much sadness for him i had to go into the bathroom and cry. you're right...it affected so many. then, after you were married and i watched you and steve interact (so in love) i honestly thanked god that he had made you so perfectly for steve. love that you're telling the story.

  3. I'm partly just PMSing, and it may also be your little music player over there...but you've totally made me cry. I had to read the rest of the story. I'm glad I did.

  4. I remember this all so clearly. I remember telling Mark how wonderful it was that you could be a strong loving woman in Lindsey's life. I remember praying for you to have strength to bring joy to the kids when you would babysit! AND this was all when you were "just" the babysitter!!!

  5. love the story of the very beginning. and being the friend with you at the start :) and yes, i too remember Steve commenting on my last name -- i think maybe it was his mom's maiden name, or grandmothers?

  6. I read the whole story - backwards.


    I am speechless.

    And you are STUNNING. Just saying.


  7. I've now read the chapters of your story - very sweet! And just had to say, my parents were 28 years apart AND he was her highschool band director. :) I found it interesting. Congratulations on your son! Cute as can be.

  8. I love your story. I also love that my name is also Bridget and my husband's name is Steve!

  9. Wow, I can't believe it...I am 23 and with a 36 year old man with 4 children from a previous marriage. My sister recommended your blog to me and I am SO glad she did because I thought I was completely alone on this one...happy to (virtually) meet you and your family :)

  10. I just read your entire love story and am so touched! absolutely beautiful. it is amazing how life works out, isn't it? love your blog :).

  11. Hi, just read your story and it brought me to tears. I'm so happy yours was a happy ending, but I can't help but obsess over the fact that those sweet babies lost their mom so young. It's one of my biggest fears and having just had a baby 8 months ago, and a 10 and a 9 yr old, and haven't been feeling well for several months, can't help but to let my mind go there.
    It does give me some hope that your sweet family was able to move on and have from what I'm reading, a good foundation, moving forward.
    You are such a special person and I pray if God forbid something ever happens to me, there will be someone that can fill that can step in and help fill that spot.

  12. i love this! the stories of how things came to be is probably, by far, my absolute fave!


talk to me.

(also! if you have a question, check back as i usually answer it here!)


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...