The day we met the wind was crisp outside. The teachers were all at the officer's club relaxing and eating dinner after a long day at work. My sponsor showed up with a guy in tow. That guy was covered in "field mud" and all we could really see of him was his blue eyes. Crystal blue.
He sat down next to me and whew- I hardly remember anyone else at the table. We talked for about four hours that night. Five or six the night after.
Along with the daily motorcycle rides came long conversations about life and living, people we admired and just everything else. Daily travel was either to the restaurant up the hill for dinner or a "new" town to see up the Main River.
He proposed to me in Berlin over Thanksgiving. And again on the first of December when he was promoted. So quiet, yet so bold.
This is the month we celebrate our time together. Strangely more important than the day we married.
The day we met.
November 6, 1981.
Next year we will be overseas for our anniversary of the day we met- maybe in Germany at the restaurant at the top of the hill. I wonder if it is still open?