My husband and I like to watch movies any chance we get. It doesn’t matter what kind of movie; it only matters that he and I get a chance to unwind and just be with each other. The other night we watched a romantic comedy, and it got me thinking about the Valentine’s Day post I wanted to write. Like so many other romantic movies, it followed a typical format: Boy and girl going about their daily lives; boy and girl cross paths by some twist of fate; boy and girl lock eyes for the first time, sparks fly, and a swell of romantic music ensues at that moment, letting the viewers know that this is the beginning of something beautiful.
My husband and I have been married for 13 years, though all told we’ve been together for 16. Our romance began not like the scene described above, but more like this type of romantic comedy: Boy and girl going about their daily lives; boy and girl cross paths for the first time; boy does something to annoy girl; girl writes off boy as a non-love interest; boy and girl get to know each other over time, and then realize that they have found their soul mates in each other. (Cue swell of romantic music now). That’s how it happened for us.
I remember the night we got engaged, like it was yesterday. We went to dinner at Tiffany’s on Valentine’s Day, and then went to the overlook on Mt. Washington. For those of you not familiar with Tiffany’s, it was a nice restaurant in the South Hills right on route 51; long since gone, it is now Pan Asia, which is actually another favorite restaurant of ours. Their sushi and General Tso is fabulous!
It was bitterly cold that night, just like it is now, but from the heights of Mt. Washington the view of the city lights glittering below was breathtaking. It was there that my soul mate asked me to spend eternity with him. “How do you know when you have found the one? How do you know when it’s love?” I remember asking my dad once when I was a teenager. “Don’t worry, you’ll know,” was his confident, yet unreassuring reply. This was not the answer I wanted to hear…but he was right. Eric and I had only been dating for four months, but in my heart I knew he was the one. The truth is, I knew he was the one on our first date.
Now, years later, I look at my precious little girl who will be a teenager before I know it, and I’m waiting for the day when she asks me the same question. How will I answer her? I’ll tell her the un-movie-like, yet perfect, wouldn’t-change-a-thing love story of her parents…and then I’ll give her the same confident, yet unreassuring answer, because it’s true: “Don’t worry, you’ll know.”