How I Met Mrs. Right

This is a fantastic true story; I have to share. I do not want you to think we have the ultimate love story, because we both suffered greatly before we physically met. I had to say, physically, because the real story is how I first met my wife. To tell the whole story, I have to go back in time. The year was 1987, I was 15 years old, living in Saudi Arabia. My father worked for Goodyear Aerospace, which is how I ended up in Saudi Arabia for the first time. There were not very many girls located on the base and those that were there were interested in other guys. Needless to say, I did not have any real relationships blossoming there.

Saudi Arabia was not how you might picture it. First of all, we lived in the mountainous Asir region. It was, truly, a remarkable area, full of culture and history. This area, in Saudi Arabia, was almost always 70 degrees or more, heaven tucked away in an arid country. The compound we stayed on, consisted of 4 family adobe complexes. Four apartments in one building, with a fantastic roof featuring four separated walls. I never really gave it much thought, until later, but this would have been ideal for arab families to hold their prayers. These segmented sections were roomy enough, they could lay out their prayer mat, and easily face the eastern sky. In Saudi Arabia, prayer is as essential as breathing. As americans, these were used for a much different purpose. The women and girls would use it as a tanning bay, while the guys used it for barbecues. Of course, as teenagers we used them as gathering grounds. I, however, liked to spend my time on the roof looking up at the stars. There has been no equivalent since.

The night was June 5, 1987, a date when I felt a sense of serenity like no other. I remember this night because it was the first time I ever jotted a date down anywhere on my calendar. I circled this date every year for the next 3 years, though I had no idea why. That night I went to bed, quickly drifting into a deep slumber. An image of a girl appeared in my dream. A girl I had never met nor had I ever seen. Those large brown eyes and perfect smile captivated me, swallowed me. The next morning I tried, to no avail, to place a name to her face. This dream haunted me for years. After a while, I had forgotten my dream girl. I thought forever.

In high school, I had a girlfriend. We thought we were in love. During my senior year, she got pregnant. I could not have been happier. She gave birth to our son and I thought things were great. Smoke in mirrors, after barely a year together we were divorced. Life quickly spiralled out of control, I knew I had to get away. I joined the Army, trying to escape the past. It made matters worse, because I loved my son and longed to see him. I could not get a grasp on my life and had no idea what I had done to anger god. I felt utterly useless and spent many years in other women's arms. I was not with them for love, they were only there to fuel my lusts. I had reverted to some neanderthal style life and hated myself even more. Life was looking bleak.

My wife was also struggling, though I had no idea. Her ex-husband was killed only 6 months after their divorce finalized. He was a police officer killed in the line of duty. He left her with a 6 year old daughter to raise by herself. Shortly before he died, she had lost her mother to cancer. A few months after he died, she lost her beloved mother-in-law. Her ex-husband's mother never treated her bad, since she knew her own son was cheating on his wife. The losses were mounting and she did not have the strength to carry on. She began spending a lot of time with friends she met online. This led to a couple of relationships, without merit.

I, myself, found life online. I spent hours talking with people from my area. One night, I was out on the prowl, so to speak. I was out to get a drink, I did quite a bit of drinking then, when I ran across a friend. She introduced me to several of her friends, one of which was my future wife. Unfortunately, another woman had caught my attention in the bar. A few days later, I was online talking about this woman I had just met, when another woman told me about what her friend was saying about me. I told her, this could not be true, since I was talking to her at that moment. Sure enough, the stranger copied and pasted her friend's comments. I felt like such a fool, thanking the stranger for her kindness. She did not have to tell me about her friend's comments, but she did. I asked the stranger why she felt compelled to inform me of this betrayal. I will never forget her response. "I saw this guy wearing tight blue jeans, a hot black silk shirt, beige worker's boots, and thought he was gorgeous. Yet, when we were introduced, I could not say a word to him. His piercing blue eyes and boyish good looks were too overwhelming."

How had I not noticed her? We agreed to get offline and call each other. For the next four days, we did not get much rest. We spent nearly every waking moment on the phone, talking about anything and everything. There was an instant connection. Finally, I told her we should get together. Her sister picked up her daughter, one night. Actually, the night was June 12, a week after we had first been introduced, a week after her birthday. Of course, I felt horrible for not knowing that at the time. We met physically on June 5, however we did not get a chance to physically connect until June 12. I quickly realized why she had not caught my attention. She was not the typical girl I was attracted to. She was a little overweight and the stress had taken a toll on her features. This no longer mattered. For the next three days, I spent my time going to her apartment.

On the third visit, she pulled out an old photo album. She had me bring one of my photo albums with me. Her eyes widened when she found a picture of this young 15 year old standing before her. At that same moment, my eyes bulged out of my head, when I saw this picture of her when she had just turned 18. The girl had big brown eyes and a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts, the same girl I had been so smitten with when I was a kid. Of course, she told me about a dream of this kid on her 18th birthday and she wished to god she knew who he was.

It was funny because neither of us looked anything like those pictures. We had changed so much. The funny part was she had asked me, previous to looking at the photo albums, what it was about her that I found so alluring. I told her, and still tell her to this day, her big brown eyes and beautiful smile warmed me to the very core.

That dream on June 5th, 1987, was how I met Mrs. Right. She would be the first to tell you that is the same date she met Mr. Right. I guess you could say, this is truly one of those Arabian nights.