I want to tell you a story about your Mommy and Daddy. Before we were your Mommy and Daddy, we were just two people going along in our lives never even thinking that one day we would be lucky enough to have a little Macy come along.
And back then, things were very different…
Seven years ago, I was in between my freshman and sophomore year at A&M. I had a good freshman year overall – I had made some good friends and was feeling like I fit in there. I came home that summer and lived with my parents while I went to summer school (biology and geology, yuck) and worked as a waitress. Seven years and one day before today, it was a Saturday night. I don’t really remember what I was doing, but I must not have been working that night, because I do remember being home. My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID – Jeff. Hmm, I thought. Jeff. Jeff. Oh! Jeff George. I must have stored his number a long time ago and simply forgotten that I had it.
Wait. I better back up. I can’t remember not knowing who your daddy was. When I was a little kid, about eight years old or so, your daddy started going to the church I went to – it’s called White Oak. I have vague memories of him as a teenager – he was really involved with the youth and spent a lot of time with the youth pastor, Paul, who later became our pastor. I remember going on m-trips with him. There was even one year that I was about 15ish (which means he was about 21ish) and we led music together at a Vacation Bible School. Our friends kind of overlapped, but we didn’t hang out too much, because he was old…um, I mean older than me.
Anyway, when I was a senior in high school, we kind of became friends. White Oak is a small church and everyone knows everyone. If you’re about the same age, you become friends. Your dad was the youth intern that summer I was a senior (he likes to tell people this, because I was still in the youth group technically) and I worked in the nursery with the four-year-olds, so we saw each other more frequently. Everyone liked your dad – he was always smiling and could make people laugh. But then I went off to college and he stayed in Houston, and we didn’t see each other hardly at all for a year. Hence why I didn’t realize who was calling when it was him that was calling.
So back to where we started. I answered the phone and we small talked for a minute.
“Hey, is your mom going to be at church tomorrow?”
I thought for a second.
“Should be. I don’t know why not. Why?”
“Well, I’m going to make her some fudge and bring it to her.”
Apparently, my mom had been bothering Jeff about making her some fudge. There was one time that he had made it and she hadn’t gotten to try a piece or something. Anyway, I didn’t know anything about it.
“Oh, that’s really nice. Yeah, I think she’ll be there.”
There was a lull in the conversation.
“So do you want to hang out sometime?” I asked. I hadn’t seen him in awhile and thought maybe it would be fun to hang out.
“Um, sure.” Now I didn’t know back then, but your dad told me later that he wasn’t really sure what I mean by hanging out. He was in school then and hadn’t spent a lot of time “hanging out”. Most of his time was spent studying and going to classes.
So we made plans for the next night, Sunday. That Sunday, seven years ago today, I can remember going to the mall with two friends. I remember going to a friend’s grandmother’s retirement party – random, I know, but that is what I did. I remember calling your dad from that party to tell him what time I would be home. He was such a gentlemen even then; he had offered to pick me up.
After he picked me up, we headed to the movies – to see Charlie’s Angels 2 – which was a terrible remake of a television series from a long time ago. He bought me Nestle Bunch-A-Crunch and popcorn. We shared. He paid for everything.
After the movie, we were walking out to his truck, and he asked me what I was studying at A&M.
“Well, I’m an English major, so I’m studying a lot of literature right now.”
“Oh. Well, what did you read?”
I thought for a second. “I just read Paradise Lost. By Milton. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
He shook his head. “Nope. What is it about?”
I started talking about Paradise Lost and how Milton took the story from the Bible of creation and made it an epic poem. I talked about some of the details that I had found interesting. I talked for awhile and then realized I was probably boring him.
“You’re pretty smart, huh?” He smiled. I blushed.
We got back into his truck and started the drive home. We started talking about lots of things – our past, our present, what we hoped for in our futures. I realized I was being more open with your dad than I had been with anyone in a long time. I felt so safe with him. It was like we had been best friends forever.
At some point on the drive home, your dad reached for my hand and held it. (He says that I reached for his hand, but I promise, Macy, that he was the one who reached for mine. 🙂 )
We got back to my parent’s house and I invited him inside. We sat at the kitchen table and kept talking until we both realized that we liked each other as more than just friends.
Much later, your dad went back home. When he left, I couldn’t stop smiling. Your grandmother told me later that once he got home, he raced in the door and was saying – Mom, Amy’s smart! – and was grinning from ear to ear.
About nine months later, your dad proposed to me at that same kitchen table in your grandparent’s house. I said yes, and five months after that we got married. And then five years after that, you came into our lives.
I love your daddy very much and thank God for him every day. Who could have known that one phone call about fudge would have led to a lifetime of happiness?