I know everybody is a little bit hungover on the Valentine's Day love fest, but I didn't get to do my show and tell. So move over blogger, it's my turn.
Recently, the girls have been incredibly curious about "romantic" stories between Mark and I. I use the word loosely because our girls are 10, 8, and 6 and still are trying to identify true romance. I guess we are not satisfying their appetites for "romance" when we lounge around; me with my glasses and mouth piece, and Mark in his hot tamale boxers and mouth piece. I guess we aren't exactly oozing anti-premarital sex tension, at 8pm on a Friday night any more. Hence, the need for some stories of more "romantic" times.
The other day I realized I had never told the girls about our first Valentine's Day as a couple. To use an overused, annoying word from today's dictionary, it was EPIC! Valentine's Day was on a Friday (just like this past Valentine's Day) I was a senior in highschool, and Mark was in training at United Airlines. The night before Valentine's Day, Mark had told me that his first training flight for United was going to be a round trip flight to Kansas City from Chicago. Literally, just that. Take off from Chicago, touch down in Kansas City, re-board, and head back out on a different flight back to Chicago. Unfortunately there was no down time for me to see him, and even if there were I would be in school. I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't get to see Mark on our first Valentine's Day. I really was ok with it, I would see him the following weekend, and at this point in our relationship I knew we were going to spend the rest of our Valentine's Days together, and that was enough for me.
Friday morning, (Valentine's Day) a group of my friends would always meet with our favorite bible teacher at the local bagel shop for breakfast and fellowship before school. When I arrived and told them about Mark flying into KC and the slim chances of me seeing him. They resisted my fake 'non-disappointment' and INSISTED I leave immediately, drive the 30 minutes to the airport, if only to get a glance of him and give him my gift. I will tell you, the charge was primarily lead by our fearless leader who immediately excused my tardiness and absence from school. They wouldn't let me say no, they didn't accept my excuses and forced me out the door in a hurry and told me this would make the greatest story one day!
Little did they know what was coming...
I arrived close to 7am. I wasn't exactly sure which flight Mark was on, I knew he was to land sometime in the morning. This was before the days where everyone had a phone and could text, call, and search the web for flight times, etc.. So I drove to the airport not knowing if his flight had already landed and my trip would be in vain. I got to the airport, parked the car, and sprinted for the United terminal. I glanced all over for the information board to only find out there were a million flights coming in from Chicago, like two an hour. Thankfully, none had landed yet, and they all happened be arriving at the same gate. Process of elimination; I knew he was coming and I knew where he would land, I just wasn't exactly sure when.
This was pre 9-11, so I could sit in the airport just outside of the gate and wait until my love arrived. I positioned myself against a wall where when the staff opened the door I could see all the way down the breezeway. Kansas City airport is so fantastic because of all the windows. You can see the planes coming and going, and so I waited.
The 8am flight landed, I stood up and eagerly watched each passenger de-board. I was grinning from ear to ear. I knew the flight crew de-boarded at the end, so I waited. Finally, I saw the crew deboard, but no Mark. My heart sank. Maybe his scheduled training flight was delayed or postponed, but there would be no way for me to know.
I sat back down on the cold concrete and waited for the 845 flight. With great anticipation, I watched the next of hundred people de-board and my heart sank, no Mark.
I knew I couldn't sit at the airport ALL day. I had school to attend and a basketball game to play in. I told myself I'd wait only for one more the flight, the 930 flight, and if he wasn't on that plane, it would make a great sad story to tell.
The plane landed, I stood up, my back sore from two and a half hours of sitting on hard floors and leaning against concrete. I refused to let my heart get excited, I'd been disappointed twice before. "Hello, hundred random people I'm NOT looking for. Everyone dressed to the nines because you are in first class. Second class. More my people. I could be friends with all you normal people. And yep here comes the crew... And yes, yes, YES! That's him! That's my man. But wait, why are they running full speed down the breezeway, and down the terminal, and straight at me?! Oh my gosh, is he just that excited to see me? Holy cow! I hope some film crews are filming this! This is like Valentine's Day on crack! Oh my word! He's here! He's here! And I get to deliver my valentine TO MY Valentine!
Mark was running straight toward me and I was like any 18 year old girl in love, I was illuminating.
"He's getting closer, getting closer. Calmly walk towards him Sara, open your arms, flash that brilliant smile, waiting waiting,"
Mark ran straight at me, then passed me, and down the United terminal for another gate. I am pretty sure I thought it was joke.
"I swore he just made eye contact with me. But yet, he's running AWAY from me."
And like any desperate person in love, I started sprinting after him screaming his name, "MARK! MARK! MARK!" Nothing. Full speed ahead for my aloof Romeo.
Finally, my mad sprinting skills caught up to him, I grabbed his back and spun him around!
"MARK!!!!!!!"
Mark dropped his entire training manual and everything else he was rolling and holding and said,
"OH SHIT!"
(This might have been the first time I had ever heard Mark cuss.)
Looking back, out of all the curse words I could have chosen for him to say, this one fits the absolute best into our relationship story.
He hugged me, he kissed me, I shoved my gift in his arms and he said frantically, "I have to go right now, we're late!"
We kissed again. He told me he loved me, and off he went sprinting passed me.......again.
I stood just there, watching him run down the concourse collecting for my heart all the precious things I felt for him in that moment.
And I just thought that was the best part of the story.
As Mark boarded the plane, an older gentleman stopped him and said, "Was that your wife you just saw in the airport?" Mark replied, "No Sir, that was my girlfriend." And while I do not remember the exact words the man said to him, the general idea was... "Well, let me just tell you son, I sat and watched her all morning, as she sat, watched and waited for you. That's the most romantic thing I've seen in a long. Better than any movie. She's a keeper!"
The girls were puddy in my hands when I finished our "romantic" tale. They squealed and clapped like any naive, innocent, unbroken, hearts would do. And I was grinning brilliantly as I recalled what I felt for him in that moment. But the best part of retelling our romance was the way I felt right then passing down to my babies a story that has lived on between their father and I. A romantic story that didn't end just because things became less movie like and more real life like. A story that, through Christ's grace alone, still lives on. A story, with much brokenness and difficulty written on the pages, fully hopes and fully relies on a greater Love to sustain our feeble ways. A story, that I beg before the throne room, my children will be able to tell their children in regards to their OWN marriage story.
So while the waiting, sprinting and anticipation was dramatic and romantically thrilling for our listeners; I in my glasses and mouth piece, will take my hot tamaled boxered-mouth pieced man, any day of the week!
Take that Cupid!
~Sara
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