Orange-gold rays spill over the mountains and onto the road as I drive to work this morning. The line of mostly SUVs and trucks follow each other. We’re like a train and someone else is always taking turns being the caboose. On the radio, the musical group Train sings Marry Me.
For a moment I drift backwards into my past. Awash in the beautiful morning, I can’t help but recall the day that my husband took me to the coffee shop where we first met. A small bulge in his shirt pocket made my heart pitter-patter. I knew what was coming because we had spent the entire evening before trying on rings and skipping and giggling all around the courthouse square asking each other, “Are you sure? Do you? Do YOU?” He wanted to do it properly.
After working my second job and barely containing my impatience for that day to end, he took me to the café where we first met. He took out the small box from his pocket and got down on one knee. I don’t recall the words. They were beautiful. I remember his eyes—earnest, loving, and he shone just as bright as that ring. I couldn’t believe this man wanted to marry me. I felt like a much used rag, unwashed and left out in the dirt, but this man loved me. He loved everything about me, and most importantly, knew every dark corner. He saw the best in me. I wasn’t used to that in anyone. I was never allowed to forget my faults or my past. You could say in some ways that he rescued me. He was my white knight.
The truck in front of me is fiddling with their back window. It’s distracting and I am jarred from the loveliness of that memory into the present. The sun grows brighter, its rays bouncing across the lake. I am reminded again that dawn is symbolically a representation of new beginnings. Tony was my new beginning. Christ was OUR new beginning. Second chances abound only if you never lose faith.
How did you and your spouse meet?
What does the words New Beginnings mean to you?