The eighth year...and the beginning.

Brian and I met in June, 2016: he was coming off of a long-term relationship breakup, I was coming off of a breakup after a reconnection that went south. Being a modern woman and all, I was talked into signing up for dating web sites by a co-worker. I finally agreed to try one and only for a few weeks. I had terrible luck with online dating. After signing up, posting my few decently angled selfies, I was ready to go. The first two matches were nice guys, just not a fit. The last one...well, let's just say that had we not met in a public space, and had I not had an exit strategy, I may have been an episode of Dateline where they find my head in a bowling bag and my torso under a bridge in downtown Portland. The next day, I went in to deactivate my account and focus on collecting Starbucks cups, books, and fabulous writing utensils, and I had a message in my inbox. Intrigued, I opened it to find a message from a cute pair of dimples and the ability to read my bio on the site. We started to chat, and then (because I was still 100% deleting my profile and stalking Office Depot's web site) I gave him my actual number to text. We texted and then talked on the phone, and made plans on a Wednesday evening for an ice cream date that Friday. Thursday evening, I get a call: wanna come play air hockey at a pizza joint? Yes, yes I did. We met at Donatello's on S Commercial, where Brian proceeded to annihilate me three times at air hockey, no mercy. He did buy me a Pepsi, and we sat in the quieter restaurant side, talking about everything, laughing, and telling stories. When the girl working the counter started putting up chairs, we made our way outside. Now, you might be thinking: first kiss and the sparks fly? Uh, no. I got a side hug and a firm handshake and he got into his car and left. I am not sure if he even looked back to register the dumbfounded look on my face, or to witness me checking my teeth in the closest car's side view mirror. Did I stink? Was I "a nice girl, but not what I'm looking for?" Was I firmly in the friendzone? After about a minute of standing like an idiot in the parking lot, I shook my head and went home, where I looked at the Humane Society web page for cats. The next morning, I got a text: We still on for ice cream? Coldstone is near my work on Center... so I spent the day working, showered, got dressed, put on makeup (after a long day herding 3rd graders through summer camp, that's a big deal), brushed my teeth, and headed to ice cream. We sat in the air conditioning well after we finished our treats, talking and laughing. We walked out to our cars, and FINALLY had our first kiss. And yes, it was magical and butterfly-inducing and everything else that you read in teen rom-com movie scripts. Two weeks later, we got the kids together for a movie at Northern Lights and took an epic picture. A month after we met, on July 28, 2016, we exchanged those three words at a park in South Salem, watching the kids run around like weirdos. We've been pretty much inseparable in the past nine years; I gained three Henderson kids, two Kiluwe kids, one Bella, a Nanu, and assorted other random kids; he gained two Howell kids, with an occasional Mitchell blonde thrown in for good measure. We've gotten apartments, cats, colds, and actual COVID together. We've had eight high school graduations, four proms, one Air Force enlistment, one Navy enlistment, one preschool teacher, one college freshman, one Master's degree, two working men, and one wedding. We've lost family members to illness or age, welcomed new members of the family into our lives, and moved from Oregon to Ohio, and now to Maryland (you're welcome, Maranda). We can't wait to start this new chapter, and we are excited about doing it as husband and wife. #finallyahenderson