With our 20th wedding anniversary coming up, I decided to write about our love story. Please join me in the upcoming days as I tell A Summer Camp Love Story.
Need to catch up? Part 1--Our Love Story Starts with: A List; Part 2--A Girl on the Boys' Side, and a Boy on the Girls' Side; Part 3--A Dance...with a Promise
In following my "Carpe Diem" mantra that summer, I wrote Dave a goodie--a letter sent through inner-camp mail--the morning after our dance. My hand was practically shaking as I wrote the short note, thanking him for the dance. Goodness, I wouldn't fit in with today's girls that call boys first, and ask them on dates. I was old-fashioned about boys. Even writing that note felt overly-flirty to me. But, I wrote it, quickly folded it up, and put it in the mailbox before I could change my mind.
When he came by the office later in the day, smiling, and asking about my day, I knew the goodie had been a good idea.
Even though his cowboy boots and slow dance sealed the deal for me, Dave says my questions sealed it for him. And I believe I know just the night he's talking about...
One night that week I was working on a project--putting the little metal jump-rings onto plastic crosses, and threading them with a leather cord. There were hundreds of these to complete, so I decided to take all of my supplies to a quiet office to tackle the tedious job. When Dave stopped in our office that evening to say hello, my dear, dear friend Dawn just-so-happened to mention where I was working on my project. And wouldn't you know it--minutes later, Dave stopped by my quiet office and sat down.
At first, I found it difficult to concentrate on my pliers and jump-rings. But, I did what I always seem to do in nervous situations: I asked lots of questions.
I asked Dave all about his family. I asked him about the intriguing jobs he'd had. He fascinated me. He'd run businesses, he'd created his own line of Spring Break t-shirts, and sold them right on the beach of South Padre. Then, when winter came, he picked up and moved to Breckenridge, to teach kids how to ski. He was smart and independent, and unlike any of the guys I'd ever known. I'd never known anyone who lived so far "outside the box." His life was easy to keep asking questions about. I was fascinated, and smitten.
And, before I knew it, my entire pile of hundreds of crosses was complete.
I wanted to spend more time with Dave. But, remember--I worked on the boys' side of camp, and he worked on the girls' side of camp. He was a Big Brother at the girls' camp. Every term, there were a couple of guys who filled that position. I guess, like Dawn and me loving working around all those cute boys--Dave surely enjoyed working around all the cute college girls. Only, you know, the girls actually kept their shirts on.
One of Dave's jobs in the girls' camp was to drive boats for the ski class. Lucky for me--his ski class time coincided with my daily free-time out of the office. Most days, Dawn (my co-conspirator in the Carpe Diem department!) and I rushed down to the girls' boat dock to hang out during our free time. We understood that if we timed it just right, we would be able to soak in some sun, as well as greet the campers...and their boat driver as they finished up their skiing, and returned to the dock.
Some days we'd just chat with Dave as he put away skis and life jackets. Other days, he'd offer us a quick boat ride.
Always, my cheeks would be flushed with sun and excitement, smiling and savoring every single moment. But, not nearly as flushed as they were at the end of that one particular