This morning I happened to be admiring a baby shower gift that belongs to Nora. It is a photo mat on which many friends and relatives signed their names and wrote special words of blessing. One note caught my eye; it was written by one of my closest friends, Kerry. It said: Always remember, if it weren’t for me, you would have never been born.
After I chuckled to myself, I got to wondering: would Liam and I still have met, crossed paths, had it not been for Kerry? Or Bridget, even, another close friend whose brothers’ 80’s party played a monumental part in our eventually getting together?
The first time I met my husband I was nineteen years old, a sophomore in college. He was seventeen, a junior in high school. He flew out to South Bend, Indiana, to visit his cousin, Kerry, who also happened to be my roommate, and to take in a Fighting Irish football game.
Memories from this time for both of us are pretty hazy. In fact, the only thing that sticks out for me, is how impressed I was that Liam managed to remove (ahem, steal) an ornament from a decorative car hood that was mounted on the wall of the local dive bar which we used to frequent, as they allowed seriously bad fake IDs as proof of legal drinking age. As a fellow spontaneous kleptomaniac of random trinkets, that I assured myself nobody would ever miss, I was enormously pleased by this grab. However, I had a serious boyfriend at the time, and was not looking for a new love interest.
The only thing Liam remembers from this trip is being impressed by our dorm room. Kerry and I had our beds lofted (our dads helped construct them so), so a couch and our desks could fit underneath, maximizing our space potential. Apparently, he’d never seen this done before, and thought it was pretty darn cool. Also, he remembers having to spend the night in our guy friends’ dorm room since our school did not allow for the spending of overnight guests of the opposite sex. A little awkward, perhaps?
He would come back to visit Kerry one more time during our last year at Notre Dame. But that’s a story for tomorrow…