I think only two of my four kids have asked me why i married their mom, i guess it's a common question we get from our kiddos when they are little and just wonder about everything.
If you are able to put the answer to that question into words, i congratulate you, because i haven't been able to find the right words; it's more like feelings rather than reasons that come to mind; feelings that involve words like "hopes" and "dreams", and maybe if i could describe them i would be a professional writer. Going with that tired, old answer that "we fell in love" just doesn't cut it in my book; even if you stretch out the "looooove" when you say it; people fall in loooove every day, sometimes twice in one day, not every couple go that extra step, and make it binding.
I may not have a logical answer for my kids, but when i think about that question
a story does comes to mind that may give them some insight into what went into that all-important choice, or it might confuse them even more.....
It was the early 80's, so i was in my early 20's and i hung out with a couple guys who frequented Mexican beer joints in Wichita Falls. These stinky, badly lit bars were not my thing, but at the time i had been reading Hemingway: The Sun Also Rises, A Moveable Feast, so i was curious about bars in general. I would never attempt to enter these establishments on my own, they were scary places for a sheltered kid like me, and it didn't take long to find out that you are highly unlikely to talk to an interesting person in these joints, like in the novels. My friends enjoyed a game of billiards while drinking beer and listening to loud Mexican music. Eventually, these guys found mates and one left town. Believe me, i can tell a longer version of this story, but i wont, i'll try to make it short and sweet.
After Miguel married i would often go to the Mexican dances in Wichita Falls and Lawton with them; the Valentine's Day dance, Mother's Day dance, Christmas, New Year, and countless weddings. On a few occasions they would fix me up with a Mexican gal who was usually here illegally, and that was ok; legal, illegal, ambiguous, didn't much matter to me.
Then one night i showed up at the rental house they stayed at, north of downtown W.F. and east of Lucy park. There were three girls there with them, two of which would meet their dates at the dance, so i was assigned to Yolanda, one of the other two girl's sister. Yolanda had a bit of a Minnie Mouse look about her, but a pretty girl nonetheless; she was skinny, light skinned, almost pale, and a big, dark curly mane, like that girl on Flashdance. I think she wore black slacks and a white blouse under a v-neck sweater. One thing that i can look back on as an odd thing was that the sister was unususally interested in me, but not in a romantic way; the other thing was that Yolanda didn't say much.
So off we went, and like i said before, i will spare the reader a long drawn out description of the next three hour in the dance hall. To say that Yolanda was a gal of few words would be putting it mildly, but somehow it worked for me. Quiet and shy was just not my experience when it came to Mexican women, so i found myself in the awkward but interesting situation of me doing all the talking; luckily, we were as far away from the band's speakers as one could get, but it was still difficult to talk over the music. We danced a few; i am no dancer, but she held me at arms length and it was like holding a maniquin. Don't get me wrong, i was intrigued, by the end of the night i was giddy with intrigue. I did manage to find out that she was about my age, from Chihuahau, and hadn't been in the U.S. very long; so, i mostly talked about what things were like here.
When we made it back to the house with Miguel and his wife, Lety, the other two girls had found their own way home, and they told me to walk Yolanda home just down the street. We walked half a block in the cool night air, and then we walked between two houses; in the back of this property there were three or four small, white clapboard rental units. There was a bare bulb turned on in the tiny porch of the house that she stopped at to face each other, but she would not look at me. All i could think about was the silliness of this whole night, and dangit if i wasn't going to put the finishing touches on it.
Not expecting anything but a laugh, i said, "you know, in this country, after a date, it is customary to kiss."
Of course, i hoped for her to say something like, "well... when in Rome...." I was only looking for a laugh, even a "ha! in your dreams", that would have given the night some normalcy, but that was not to be.
Startled, she flew up the porch, flung the door open, jumped inside, and slammed the door shut.
By the time i got back to Miguel's, Lety noticed that i was trying to keep from laughing and she said: what did you do? I innocently told them what had happened
and i did feel bad that i found it amusing but.... that's when Miguel groaned and Lety threw a fit and between them they told me the story. Yolanda had been going to school in a convent, and she was thinking about becoming a nun. Her sister was against it and had brought her to live with her in Wichita Falls to get her away from all that and maybe if she met a nice guy.....so their friend Lety had thought of me.....the nice guy.
It would have helped if they had told me before, but i kinda understand that it was none of my beeswax. Many months later i learned that Yolanda had gone back to Mexico, joined the convent for good. To my utter shock, Yolanda's sister told Lety to tell me that Yolanda said hi, and thought of me fondly. Hmm.
Ladies and gentleman, in this fashion or some other, this was a typical outing of the dating kind for me.
Eventually, i met Trish, and without skipping a beat, she was the one that said: well.... when in Rome......
If you are able to put the answer to that question into words, i congratulate you, because i haven't been able to find the right words; it's more like feelings rather than reasons that come to mind; feelings that involve words like "hopes" and "dreams", and maybe if i could describe them i would be a professional writer. Going with that tired, old answer that "we fell in love" just doesn't cut it in my book; even if you stretch out the "looooove" when you say it; people fall in loooove every day, sometimes twice in one day, not every couple go that extra step, and make it binding.
I may not have a logical answer for my kids, but when i think about that question
a story does comes to mind that may give them some insight into what went into that all-important choice, or it might confuse them even more.....
It was the early 80's, so i was in my early 20's and i hung out with a couple guys who frequented Mexican beer joints in Wichita Falls. These stinky, badly lit bars were not my thing, but at the time i had been reading Hemingway: The Sun Also Rises, A Moveable Feast, so i was curious about bars in general. I would never attempt to enter these establishments on my own, they were scary places for a sheltered kid like me, and it didn't take long to find out that you are highly unlikely to talk to an interesting person in these joints, like in the novels. My friends enjoyed a game of billiards while drinking beer and listening to loud Mexican music. Eventually, these guys found mates and one left town. Believe me, i can tell a longer version of this story, but i wont, i'll try to make it short and sweet.
After Miguel married i would often go to the Mexican dances in Wichita Falls and Lawton with them; the Valentine's Day dance, Mother's Day dance, Christmas, New Year, and countless weddings. On a few occasions they would fix me up with a Mexican gal who was usually here illegally, and that was ok; legal, illegal, ambiguous, didn't much matter to me.
Then one night i showed up at the rental house they stayed at, north of downtown W.F. and east of Lucy park. There were three girls there with them, two of which would meet their dates at the dance, so i was assigned to Yolanda, one of the other two girl's sister. Yolanda had a bit of a Minnie Mouse look about her, but a pretty girl nonetheless; she was skinny, light skinned, almost pale, and a big, dark curly mane, like that girl on Flashdance. I think she wore black slacks and a white blouse under a v-neck sweater. One thing that i can look back on as an odd thing was that the sister was unususally interested in me, but not in a romantic way; the other thing was that Yolanda didn't say much.
So off we went, and like i said before, i will spare the reader a long drawn out description of the next three hour in the dance hall. To say that Yolanda was a gal of few words would be putting it mildly, but somehow it worked for me. Quiet and shy was just not my experience when it came to Mexican women, so i found myself in the awkward but interesting situation of me doing all the talking; luckily, we were as far away from the band's speakers as one could get, but it was still difficult to talk over the music. We danced a few; i am no dancer, but she held me at arms length and it was like holding a maniquin. Don't get me wrong, i was intrigued, by the end of the night i was giddy with intrigue. I did manage to find out that she was about my age, from Chihuahau, and hadn't been in the U.S. very long; so, i mostly talked about what things were like here.
When we made it back to the house with Miguel and his wife, Lety, the other two girls had found their own way home, and they told me to walk Yolanda home just down the street. We walked half a block in the cool night air, and then we walked between two houses; in the back of this property there were three or four small, white clapboard rental units. There was a bare bulb turned on in the tiny porch of the house that she stopped at to face each other, but she would not look at me. All i could think about was the silliness of this whole night, and dangit if i wasn't going to put the finishing touches on it.
Not expecting anything but a laugh, i said, "you know, in this country, after a date, it is customary to kiss."
Of course, i hoped for her to say something like, "well... when in Rome...." I was only looking for a laugh, even a "ha! in your dreams", that would have given the night some normalcy, but that was not to be.
Startled, she flew up the porch, flung the door open, jumped inside, and slammed the door shut.
By the time i got back to Miguel's, Lety noticed that i was trying to keep from laughing and she said: what did you do? I innocently told them what had happened
and i did feel bad that i found it amusing but.... that's when Miguel groaned and Lety threw a fit and between them they told me the story. Yolanda had been going to school in a convent, and she was thinking about becoming a nun. Her sister was against it and had brought her to live with her in Wichita Falls to get her away from all that and maybe if she met a nice guy.....so their friend Lety had thought of me.....the nice guy.
It would have helped if they had told me before, but i kinda understand that it was none of my beeswax. Many months later i learned that Yolanda had gone back to Mexico, joined the convent for good. To my utter shock, Yolanda's sister told Lety to tell me that Yolanda said hi, and thought of me fondly. Hmm.
Ladies and gentleman, in this fashion or some other, this was a typical outing of the dating kind for me.
Eventually, i met Trish, and without skipping a beat, she was the one that said: well.... when in Rome......
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