Maybe it’s the family historian in me, or the romantic (hidden deep inside me it seems), but I always enjoy hearing how people met the loves of their lives. At family get-togethers it’s been one of the things I hunt down my older relatives for and beg them to share their story with me. With new friends, it’s one of the ways I understand more about who they are and where they’ve been. 

I always knew that I had a desire to get married and have kids someday. I didn’t know when or how that would happen, and with every relationship there was always the question of “is this the one?” Well, not every relationship. There were those that taught me how strong I could be, and ones that taught me to ask myself what I really wanted out of life. I’m grateful for those. Not that there were many. But enough. Enough to allow me to give up control of the desire to find “the one” and let it happen on its own. And without dwelling on that list I had made in high school of what I thought the perfect man for me would be. Because he doesn’t exist.

In the fall of 2004 I packed up my world that, at the time, was scattered in a 13’x13′ wood-paneled but deep-sea-blue-painted walls and checkerboard painted ceiling in my parents basement. I had lived in that room since 1993. It had been a nice retreat from my little sisters and parents as a pre-teen then teenager then commuting college student. 

Yet as I got older, I noticed there was something wrong with my cozy basement room. It had no windows or doors to access the outside. I had been tricked! I loved my family, but I needed out! And I couldn’t sneak out even if I tried! 

So, along with five other AU art majors, I moved to Pittsburgh for our Junior year of college to attend the Art Institute for a year in the Affiliate Program. I left Ashland for those nine months single and happy about that fact. 

I lived in Allegheny Center on the North Side of the city, and while there were many safety measures taken where we lived, this lifetime Ashland girl was definitely out of her element. Weed, profanities being yelled, homeless, drugs, guns, drinking heavily, different lifestyles, piercing and tattoos everywhere imaginable. It was interesting. The only thing in that list I was a part of was having my nose pierced (but I did that while still at AU).

I did my art. I learned a lot. I felt even more admiration toward typography. I got fairly good grades. I felt independent and a bit more grown up. I felt like I was understanding myself a little bit better and felt closer to God that year than I ever had before. I think it took me moving away from the town I had always known and the familiar surroundings to see what I was capable of. I met new faces of all walks of life in my classes, in my building, and at my job in the Children’s Museum Cafe.

I came home for my sister’s graduation party in May of 2005, and that same weekend we had to put our 11 year old yellow-lab mix, Norman, down. It was a weekend of mixed emotions. Her party was missing Norman running around in our backyard, but we were glad to have so many family and friends around celebrating her graduation from high school; she was a great student and active in lots of academic and musical endeavors and we were proud of her.

On Sunday morning I attended Park Street for the first time in a few months and it was great to reconnect with some old faces. That day I remember seeing my old friend Barney, who I had counseled with as full time staff at Camp Bethany in the summer of 2003.

I loved everyone on that staff. We would all write each other encouragement cards on construction paper and pray for one another; it was a lovely and uplifting summer. Barney and I said hi to each other and I asked him if he was attending Park Street now and he said that yes,that he had been hired as the new Youth Pastor back in March. I said something like, “Oh that’s great, congratulations!” and that was about it.

But back in the fall of 2003, we had actually been on a date together. A double date. But not with each other.

He and his girlfriend at the time were trying to set me up with a couple different guys that he knew. I was high school friends with his girlfriend, so other than the guys they “picked out” for me, I was at least comfortable in the fact that I knew them.

During these double dates/blind dates there was a mix of laughter and awkwardness. As a little aside, I remember asking him what he thought of my nose ring and he, being the blunt person he is, said, “I don’t like it.” Wow. Thanks, Barn. It’s an artist thing, apparently. Okay, he doesn’t get me. We did, however, both laugh hysterically at Steve Martin in the movie The Jerk. Okay, maybe we get each other a little, I thought.

Ultimately none of it worked out beyond the one date. For me—or for Barney. 

So seeing him again at church that Sunday, even after becoming good friends with him during camp just two years prior, was a little awkward. We hadn’t really connected since I learned about he and my friend were breaking up and going their separate ways. I hadn’t really talked with either of them or others from Ashland in a while because my life was going in a different direction while I was away at school in Pittsburgh.

After that quick weekend home, I headed back to my temporary city home. A few weeks later I get an unexpected email. It was from my friend Barney.

To be continued in Part Two…