The morning of Dec. 2, 1995 started off like most of my Saturday mornings when I was a senior in high school – working the breakfast shift at McDonald’s.
I tended to work the early shift, so I remember clocking in around 7 a.m.
By the time I was off, I wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower and then take a nap.
However, my mom had other plans for me that day.
When I arrived home, she told me she was going to a wedding that night and that for some reason my dad did not want to go with her, and could I “please, please Melis” go with her to the wedding.
So, I caved and agreed.
I showered and wore my lovely “Amish” girl dress – plaid fabric with bright white cuffs and collar. I fluffed my permed hair and sprayed on nearly a half-can of hairspray. The final touch was a bit of makeup.
I considered myself “ready” for the wedding.
So, off we went, to the wedding, where I noticed a young man sitting in between his parents, wearing an olive green suit.
After the ceremony, we were putting our coats on in the back of church, where I remember the young man’s father introduced his son to a co-worker.
Soon, the reception began at the local K of C Hall and my mom and I began visiting with the other guests. Many of the guests were teachers at the school where my mom was the school secretary. In fact, the bride, Hope, was a teacher’s aide at the time.
At one point, the sister of the bride came over to our table with the same young man who I saw earlier at the church. She introduced us and he asked me to dance.
I was so nervous, and my hands were sweaty … not a great first impression that’s for sure!
We danced to a few more songs together and talked a bit. Mostly, I was just worried about my sweaty hands.
Near the end of the reception, the young man walked over to my table and said, “It was really nice to meet you. I have to go to work.”
Back home that night, I wrote in my diary that I had met a “nice guy” at the wedding, who most likely will “never call me” for a date.
And while he didn’t call me right away (he claimed he lost my phone number for seven days) … he finally did call me and asked me on a date.
Our first date was on a Friday night. We ate at a local restaurant in Defiance (Nancy’s on East Second Street) and saw Father-of-the-Bride II (at the old Valentine Theater).
This past weekend, I met up with the guy I met at the wedding in 1995. We went to a couple vineyards in Ohio’s wine country. We talked about how long we have known each other. We talked about our families and our careers.
And then, on Sunday we came home to our three children.
Happy 13th Anniversary, Seth Joe!