I first met my wife 25 years ago today, on April 11, 1998. Because rain brought traffic to almost a standstill throughout the 50-mile journey from Westwood that Saturday, I arrived nearly 20 minutes late to our blind date. This, of course, was before the ubiquity of cell phones. As such, Jenny told me subsequently that if I'd arrived even five minutes later, she would have left, thinking I stood her up. But, we did meet and, almost instantly, Cupid launched an arrow through my heart--an impalement from which I still haven't recovered.
As so often happens with couples who eventually get married, mutual attraction on the first date was instant and we were on the same wavelength from the very beginning. We found we had so much in common: Chinese, born in the Midwest, mechanical engineering majors graduating in 1990, dads with PhDs in technical fields, a fascination with 20th Century American history (I especially enjoyed reading about World War II and the Supreme Court back then). We even talked about the Charpy impact test, which is used to measure the toughness of materials. It was also then that I told her about the complicated relationship I had with my parents--a discussion, it seemed, that would never really end even two-dozen years later.
I had the jambalaya, as I always did whenever I went to the Cheesecake Factory (Jenny let me pick the restaurant) and Jenny chose the Straw and Hay. Our most intimate moment of the night was sharing a Key lime pie cheesecake--two forks, one plate. The date went so well that I asked if Jenny was doing anything afterwards. I recall she looked rather bored with my question but wondered out loud if we should see a movie. We saw City of Angels, which premiered the day before.
Hugs, I believe, are much more common today than they were back then. And, a kiss carried a lot of weight with me--far too valuable to be given even at the end of a great first date or even a second one. So, after walking Jenny back to her car, we ended with a handshake. It was an odd way to say good-bye when I look back at it. In an attempt to feign indifference, I said after we shook hands, "I'm pretty busy but if I have any time, I'll send you an email." When, in reality, I was dying to see her again. It would be the last time I played games of any kind with Jenny. I sent her a note that night, in fact, telling her I had a wonderful time. The next day, we agreed that in another couple of weekends, we'd go to Universal City Walk together.
My dad once told me that when you find the right person, there's no fuss, no muss, no wondering. You just know it. And, so it was with Jenny. Within about a month (the fifth date, to be exact) we were already saying that we'd move anywhere for each other to be together. Within three months we were pretty much certain we'd marry each other. It depends on the person, of course, but falling in love is often never so clean, simple and full of promise as it is when one is in their twenties, as Jenny and I were. We were old enough to be mature about a relationship, yet young enough to be unaware of just how painful and complicated life can be. Alas, I dare say that first year with Jenny may very well end up being my life's happiest when all is said and done.
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