Monday, April 28, 2014

When I Was 11

It was the summer of 1997, and I was 11 years old.  My grandpa hired an 18-year old boy, who was a friend of the family, to work on his farm for the summer.  After approximately two days of watching him help Grandpa and Dad on the farm, I had developed a huge crush.  Actually, as most girls who have been 11 can attest, I thought it was more than a crush.  I thought I was in love.  It wasn't unusual for me, my 10-year old sister, my 11-year old cousin Laura, and my 8-year old cousin Taylor to run all over the farm all day long, but that summer, there wasn't much that could have kept me in the house.  Looking back, that young man must have been very patient and kind, because I don't remember him ever telling us to leave him alone or go play somewhere else.  We followed him all over the farm, riding in the tractor with him, riding on the hay wagon, helping him do whatever Grandpa had him doing. I remember one day, watching him ride in a feed trough like a bobsled while Dad pulled it to a back field.  I produced plenty of embarrassing school girl giggles, because I thought that he was the most hilarious thing I'd ever seen.  I also remember thinking, that as I handed him a cold rag to cover the wasp sting on his eye, that he would suddenly turn to me and say, "I'll wait until you grow up.  I know you're the one for me."  I clearly had watched too many Disney movies.  I even told my cousin Laura that I was going to marry him someday.

One day, this boy let me tag along with him in the tractor while we moved hay bales from a back field to the barn lot.  We had to drive around the farm on the road to reach the back field, and I thought I was big stuff sitting in the buddy seat in the tractor with the boy of my dreams.  He was being quite a show-off, as I remember, and kept leaning forward to rest his elbows on the steering wheel.  The only thought in my head that summer was impressing this boy, and so while watching him let go of the steering wheel, a perfect idea popped into my head.  I would just reach out and jerk the steering wheel a little--just enough to make him jump.  I just wanted to make him laugh.  So, in a flash, I reached out, and pulled the steering wheel, expecting to just give the tractor a little lurch.  As it turns out, I pulled the wheel so hard, the tractor headed straight for the opposite ditch.  For a split second, I thought for sure the entire tractor was going to tip over and the big, round bale we were carrying was going to go flying away.  Luckily, that boy was quick enough to grab the wheel and right the tractor.  I tried to laugh it off.  "That's what you get for letting go of the steering wheel," I said.  When we got back to the house, my mom was waiting for me.  We had to be somewhere, and I was making us late.  She was upset with me, but I was so relieved to have an excuse to get out of that tractor.

I was heartbroken when school started that year, and I had to leave my careless days on the farm, mooning over that boy.  Soon after summer ended, the boy took another job, and left Grandpa's farm.  I found a picture of him in a stack of pictures Mom had taken that summer.  I took it to school to show all my friends, and then hid it in my room for a long time.  However, the worries of my  social status, playing on my first traveling basketball team, and surviving sixth grade, quickly replaced the boy in my thoughts.  His sister married my older cousin, so we saw him from time to time, but as I grew up, I realized how silly I had been to think I'd find my husband when I was 11.

I remember that summer fondly and the many adventures we had almost seventeen years ago.  Not just because of the boy, but because those moments on my grandpa's farm were some of the happiest of my life. I have grown up since I was a little 11-year old girl with eyes only for a dark-haired boy.

And what happened to that boy, anyway?  I lost track of him as I went through the drama and trauma of junior high and high school, but seven years ago, on this very day, I walked down the aisle and became his wife.  It only took Greg eight years to come to his senses, and realize that the 11-year old girl who nearly killed him, was the one woman he couldn't live without.  He should have known from that one summer, that life with me would be one wild ride.  I'm sure our marriage hasn't always been what he expected (I have given him four children in less than six years, convinced him to raise a herd of dairy goats, encouraged him to learn how to make soap and start a business, all while crushing his dreams of owning an airplane and a 34-foot RV after all), but I must say, I don't think our life has ever been boring.

On our wedding day

So, happy anniversary, Greg.  Life doesn't always turn out the way we planned, but in my case, God gave me everything I had always wanted when He gave you to me.  Thank you for being my partner in this crazy adventure we've begun.  There is no one I'd rather have by my side, and I love you more every day.


Oh, and I'm sorry I almost wrecked the tractor and gave you a heart attack.  But at least it's given us a really funny story to tell.  And just remember I've done a lot dumber things, like back your car into a trailer.

Okay, maybe we won't remember the dumber things.  There's too many good things to remember anyway.

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