I'm Not Impressed

"I'm not impressed."  Those were the first words I ever spoke about my husband.


My family had just moved to a new town.  I had been hearing ever since my parents had gone house-hunting in the new location, about a young man that they met when they visited a church in the area.  My mother came home excited to have me meet this nice guy.  I told her that I was not interested in having a boyfriend who would be 800 miles away when I returned to college.


I was home on summer vacation between college years, so I moved with my parents trying to be helpful with the packing, my younger brothers, and cleaning the new home.  Our first weekend in the new town, we all went to church.  The nice young man wasn't there, as he was away participating in a friend's wedding.  But, as would be admitted to me many months later, he hurried back and arrived just as church was concluding.  He knew I might be there, and the Pastor's wife had seen my picture and was teasing him about the new girl in town.  He, of course, did not give her the satisfaction of acting interested in me, but he did hurry back.


And so, it happened that my mother poked me and said, "Do you see that guy talking to your brother?  That's Bill."


"Hmmppff,"  I replied, "I'm not impressed."


He looked like a skinny high school kid.  He was actually 23, a year out of college, managing his family's business, and already a Rotarian.  But, he looked verrrrrry young, and being a distance runner, he was verrrrrrry thin.  I was 21, a registered nurse and working to put myself through college.  


We talked briefly that day...nothing special...no sparks.  Later in the week, a couple from the church had rented a cottage and invited all of the teens and singles in the church to come for a swim and a picnic.  I rode to the cottage with Bill's sister and her boyfriend.  Bill arrived later after finishing work.  Somehow during the evening, we began talking.  The conversation lasted the entire evening.  He asked if he could give me a ride home.  He had a '57 convertible.  The evening was warm, and the top was down.  During the ride, we discovered that we both liked songs from musicals and began singing loudly as the wind rushed past.


The conversation lasted another hour as we sat in his car in my parents' driveway.  I am absolutely positive my mother must have peeked out through the curtains, but nonetheless, when I came in the house, she asked, "So, who brought you home?"


I replied, "Bill...and...I'm impressed."


That was in August of 1966.  We were married when I finished college in June of 1968.


I'm still impressed.