I was never sure I would get enough of that rush of walking on the field to tend to an injury or an emergency. The shear breathlessness each play would give me, not hoping for anyone to be injured, but praying that if something did happen that I would be able to - would remember how to - tend to what happened.
It’s the same feeling I had when I met my now husband. The feeling that I was enough in that moment, that something important was beginning, and that I needed to lean into whatever was happening at that moment in time.
This story, however, starts when I was working my “other” job. The one that makes ends meet. I had been tiring of the industry for a while, but at least bartending was more thrilling than serving. Easier, even. But I had been thinking of quitting for a while - making ends meet by picking up more hours on the athletic training field. I had been working odd jobs in the field for over a year with the company which I had signed on with. And making more moves toward my future dream of living in Philadelphia meant leaning into the moment, into the feeling that I needed to embrace the feeling of being enough in the moment in order to move on. I didn’t have a boyfriend and had no plans whatsoever to settle down.
Working in the restaurant/bar had been a job I’d had since high school. Now graduated from college and back in my home town, I was ready to maybe finally make moves to stop living paycheck to paycheck. I hadn’t even been meant to work that day, but a friend and co worker of mine had texted late the day before, begging for me to pick up their shift. It was a sunny Sunday in August, the first day of NFL football. Not that I had ever really followed it, I just knew that it was the first day, because the owners of the bar had been setting up for the game yesterday. So I took the shift, dragged myself into work, and busied myself opening the bar for the day. Wiping down tables, cutting fruit, washing any dishes left from the busy Saturday night before. “Typical day in paradise.” I remember thinking. The day outside was shaping up to be beautiful, so I wondered if I’d even have any customers, due to the outdoor patio being open.
A bunch of people walked through the bar to the door that would lead them onto the porch. “Fine. It’ll be slow.” I thought. About an hour into opening and after watching many people walk by my pristinely set up bar to the patio, a couple of men walked through the bar to the porch, the second guy glancing my direction before following his friend outside. I busied myself yet again with different chores to finish, some that would get me out of the bar sooner when the day ended.
The door from the porch opened behind me, and I hear “You got room for us?” I turned, still wiping down a glass that I had taken from the dishwasher. It was the guys who just went out there. “The bar is full out there, but we don’t want to intrude.” '
“Ha ha.” I thought in my head as I turned around. Couple of wise cracks out for a motorcycle ride and lunch on a beautiful day. They had both been carrying helmets, I noticed. I nodded, not being able to think of a snappy response about the bar being empty still. Casually, I walked over to them and engaged in conversation for most of their stay. The one who had glanced back at me from the door earlier was much more quiet than his friend. He added these one liners to the conversations that his enthusiastic friend would start. They were very polite, smiling and laughing, and finished their one and a half beers with burgers in a relaxed amount of time.
Before they left, (the bar had gotten a bit busier toward the end of their stay), they thanked me for the good food, and for “fitting them into the bar schedule.” Then hurried out the door.
“Great” I thought. “They didn’t leave a tip, or wrote something super rude or nasty on the check. Men will be boys, I guess.” It was a few minutes before I hurried over to pick up the two checks. 20% on both. And a number. “Call me - Thomas” He left his number. Mr Glance-At-Me-One-Liner-Dude left his number. Mr Blue-Eyes. (Don’t ask me how I noticed that. But trust me, I remember thinking it.)
It would be one week and four days later that I would text him, arrange for our first date the next night, and then talk to him every day since. Long story about why it took me so long to actually contact him - maybe I’ll write about that trying couple of weeks sometime.
The time that has passed since that day - the dreams I had going into that day, versus the dreams that I have today (have had since that first date, I think) … I’ll never get enough of the fact that dreams can change. How much my dreams depended on me meeting the right person, the person who keeps me feeling safe, who has never left my side no matter the roller coaster of life.
I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way we met, or get tired of telling that story. I’ll never get enough of the beautiful life we have created since meeting. Once upon a time, all I wanted was to move to a bigger city, experience life, and be this independent woman who didn’t need no man. I never wanted kids, (and had been very vocal about that to my mother) but now, I can’t get enough of them either.
That’s what gets me through some of the long days, the thought that I won’t ever be able to get enough of the moment we are in right now. And so excited about what life can throw at us when we aren’t looking.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale - an online community for women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series “Enough”.
Exhale - A Coffee + Crumbs Community
Thanks for sharing!
What a fun meet-cute story, and funny how our dreams change.