I always thought I was a romantic but after nearly 30 years together, I freely admit it is Paul that is the true romantic.
We were supposed to met at a local restaurant. We didn’t know much more about each other than our names. He knew I was deaf and that I would be wearing a red and white polka dot blouse. Thanks goodness he was at the restaurant before me so was looking for a walking polka dot figure or else I might have had to play a guessing game. When we introduced ourselves and shook hands, I felt like tiny electric shocks was shooting through me. I never experienced that sort of chemistry with any man or boys I dated. I was too practical to fall for a guy upon meeting for the first time so just brushed it off. We went into the restaurant and began to get acquainted and all the time I am thinking,
“On, he’s one of the few people I can’t lipread with ease,”
I liked him because he seemed so sincere and polite. He knew how to treat a lady and said, “I know we agreed to go go Dutch here but I would be honored if you would let this be my treat.” He was a real gentleman but it was so hard to understand him so much of it was me just nodding and following verbal and facial clues.
Well, I just made the best of it but secretly chalked it of as a flop. Paul confirmed that thought when he told me he had to leave to go to the office to finish up some work.
“Sure, you do on a Sunday.” I thought.
Nothing was said about another date. Being too much the lady, I just said goodbye.
I need to say that all communication was via snail mail. Paul didn’t knowmy last name or address. I had rented a post office box. My name was in the phone book. We met on a Sunday and on Monday there was another letter. He enjoyed it enough to ask me to meet him at another restaurant. I wrote back and said I would. I planned to tell him that since I couldn’t understand him, it would be better to call it off. Imagine the lovely surprise when he signed,”How are you?” as I walked into the restaurant. Apparently, he knew that I was having difficulty understanding him that he rushed to the library and learned the manual alphabet and the 3 signs. My practical heart became mush.
Thirty years later we are still together and celebrate the day we met and our wedding anniversary. Oh yes, Paul admit some time later that he too felt the “physical chemistry” when we shook hands. That is a story for another day.
