A 25 Year Adventure
From the altar, to a toll booth, to the far reaches of Canada and places in between, marriage has been a great adventure.
“Take good care of her.”
I looked into Uncle Howard’s eyes and saw the earnestness of a man with long experience in marriage.
“I will,” I declared with the earnestness of a man with zero experience in marriage.
I was near hypoxia as I met Uncle Howard mid-aisle, the bigness of the day landing on me right at showtime. Then, an inexplicable calm fell upon me—God’s merciful Spirit.
I took Vicki’s hand from Uncle Howard’s arm, and we turned and headed up the aisle and into our destiny.
It was 4:45 p.m., June 12, 1999.
Oneness on the toll road
In those early years, a particular moment helped change the trajectory of our quest for marital oneness, and it happened unexpectedly.
We were carpooling to work on the Toll Road from Aliso Viejo to Costa Mesa. In the days before FastPass, motorists stopped and paid hard currency to a real, live, human attendant in the toll booth. With my eyes fixed on the road, I asked Vicki if she had any change for the attendant. “No,” she replied.
“I was hoping not to have to break a 20!” I barked as we rolled toward the booth. It was a tense situation and a moment passed between us in utter silence. Then in a sing-song voice meant to mimic mine, I heard this: “I was hoping not to have to break a 20!”
Total silence.
Then I burst out laughing at Vicki’s spot-on imitation of my bombastic proclamation. Then she laughed, cautiously at first. Then we laughed out loud together. Somehow I think we paid our toll without laughing in the face of the attendant. But we rolled away laughing, having inadvertently discovered an essential secret to a happy marriage:
You had better be able to laugh at yourself, because your pretty funny—even when you’re not trying to be.
The long and winding road
From the outset of our marriage in 1999, we worked to pay our bills, live life, and thrive in Orange County, California's fast-paced hustle and bustle. Slowly we accumulated enough money to pay off debts and begin saving for “someday.” The pattern of too-busy days followed by too-short evenings and too little sleep continued for many years.
We encountered joy and tragedy along the way.
Vicki’s mother, Frances, developed esophageal cancer shortly after retiring in 2000. Sadly, the cancer took her on October 20, 2001. Her incredible life spanned internment in a Japanese prison camp during World War 2, and the terrorist attacks of 9/11. In between she raised her daughters and worked her way up to Vice President of Operations at Sanwa Bank. Along with a million memories, Frances left her daughters more than was humanly possible for a single mother to accumulate during her too short lifetime.
We found a wonderful church family in Orange and worked with the Young Married Couples group for several years during the early 2000s. We’re still in contact with some of those now not-so-young couples growing their families and encountering marriage milestones along the way. We have fond memories of our times together, and like to think of them as “our children.”
In 2018 my mother, Betty, died at the age of 95 years, 263 days. Her epic life experiences included the Great Depression, a World War, multiple lunar landings, and the election of Donald Trump. Betty outlived all her friends, truly the last of her tribe, ready to meet her Savior. Her death marked the end of a challenging season for our family ensuring that her final days were lived in safety and dignity.
Hey Carolina!
Before we knew it, the years had blown by and it was time for me to Refocus (Retire). And on April 2, 2020—exactly 30 years to the day after I started—I finished my time with The Auto Club. This was during the advent of the COVID misadventure, so mine was the company’s first-ever ZOOM Retirement Party. Some nice things were said about me, and my wife got to hear it all.
Within three months, we sold our home of 18 years in Orange, packed and shipped all of our stuff, and then drove 2,500 miles with our cat, Sweetie, to our adopted home state of North Carolina. Yes, that was a furiously fast transition.
Just wing it, baby!
In our relationship, I am the planner/executor and Vicki is the visionary/ideator. Imagine my hesitancy when she said one day early in our marriage, “Let’s take a long driving vacation and not make any plans in advance!”
Unheard of!
But, for some reason, I agreed to the idea, and we had a wonderful time driving from Orange County to Mendocino County on the adventure of a lifetime. At the apex of our journey, in Mendocino, we stayed at Blair House—the home used for filming the 90s television series, “Murder, She Wrote.” And thus began a legacy of road trips to explore the hidden gems of America.
It’s a big country
Vicki and I just returned from an epic 5,000-mile rolling adventure through New England and Canada. Along the way, we visited Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, the battlefields of Lexington and Concord, coastal Maine, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick.
We stayed in places like Baddeck, NS, home to the fabulous Alexander Graham Bell Museum. About an hour east of Baddeck, we visited the 18th-century fortress of Louisbourg—built to protect French fishing interests in the Cod-rich waters off the coast. The British invaded and destroyed the fortress in 1758 by exploiting Louisbourg’s poorly defended inland approach.
The fabulous Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic in Lunenburg, NS, details the history of its mariners—many of whom were lost at sea—with vivid displays and accounts of the seamen and families who lived there during its heyday. In front of the pier, you’ll find several large black marble slabs etched with the names of those who went to sea and never returned—the Fisherman’s Memorial.
I’ll have the Lahbstah Roll
We’re not big lobster people, but so much is made of this bottom-feeding crustacean that we tried the obligatory Lahbstah Roll during our time in Maine. The vaunted rolls were good and we enjoyed them. But, we’ll take flaky beer-battered haddock fish-and-chips any time. Ironically, one of our best dinners was in a British-themed Pub in Lancaster, PA—in the heart of Amish country—where the fish and chips came wrapped in actual newsprint!
Home sweet home
We can tell you, there’s no place like home after five weeks on the road. We pulled into the garage, grabbed our essentials from the car, and collapsed inside our cozy Blue Ridge hideaway. No matter how beautiful America is, there’s nothing like peace, quiet, and a familiar bed.
The next day, over lunch at Chick-fil-A, Vicki put into context the essence of our recently completed road trip. “We were on a journey to discover new places. And we did. That’s just what our marriage has been—a journey of discoveries!”
I couldn’t have said it any better.
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Loved this story! What great adventures you two have been on!
What and incredible journey... thank you for sharing it!