Be My Valentine

People are asking for love stories and it struck me that I don't have one. How pitiful does THAT sound? I don't have a romantic prince-charming-on-a-white-horse-taking-me-away-from-all-of-this story.

It's sad to think I have gone this far in my life and through the years, I gave up on the Prince Charming dream. I started this path when I was very, very young. My Dad was my Prince Charming and I adored him. Then one day when I was 19, another Prince Charming rode by and swept me off my feet. We married and we had two children, both boys. Seven years later, when our boys were 2 and 3 years old, he became disenchanted and found what he desired in another man.

This was an event that started a heavy soul searching on my part. I look back now and think about how young I was and how innocently I saw things - it was just a given that a princess married her Prince Charming and they lived happily ever after for ever and ever amen.

Then I started dating "real men" and found most of them wanted freedom and several partners - and they avoided having partners with single mothers. (The "package" thing)

For several years I didn’t date. I focused on my boys, my job, our lives. But then HE came along.

When my Significant Other arrived, in a beat-up roaring white ’72 Charger (a steel horse with so much horse power under the hood that it could probably drive itself), he appeared as an overweight, shy, intelligent, awkward auto mechanic. He said he saw me and KNEW that I was his “little red-haired girl.” Just like Charlie Brown. He was smitten. He entered our lives when the boys were 10 and 11, and the same weekend that they had received letters from their Dad, coming out of his closet. To say we were a shell-shocked, ragtag, confused little family was an understatement. And this was absolutely no problem to my future Significant Other. He took them out to his car while he changed the oil, replaced spark plugs, took things apart, got greasy, put things back together, fired up the many-horse power Charger, and generally was an all-male, manly-man, Tim Allen-type guy, even grunting with joy when the motor hummed back to life. The boys were pretty much in awe.

Now, THAT is as romantic as he got. No card. No flowers. No romance. But I fell for him anyway. He was stable. He was committed to just one person – who happened to be me. And he blended in with my boys as naturally as if he were their Dad. His idea of a Valentine Card was to replace the faltering alternator in my car. (Lasts longer than flowers.)

That was 23 years ago. He’s still my Significant Other. He is finally introducing me as HIS significant other, too. Before, for years, I was his girlfriend. I told him that “girlfriend” sounds trivial and IN-significant. I’m not a one-night stand and I’m not temporary. I am not just a fling. I told him that he is my Significant Other because he is important to me; he is a significant part of my life and my happiness. He is my “most important” half of me.

So, that’s my love story. I guess I DO have one after all.



Jen said...

I think that's a great love story.

MarmiteToasty said...

wow, that truely is a love story.....

I would of LOVED for my lads to have a 'male role model' in there lives..... they were only 16, 14, 9 and 6 when their father walked away from them.... and with no grandfathers or uncles to guide and nurture and do all them 'man things' with, that is what hurts most of all..... Dont get me wrong, Im pushed and pulled their cars out of ditches in the middle of the night.... Ive stood with me head under the bonnet of a car (not knowing what the hell I was looking at), Ive played and watched football hockey cricket rugby and tchoukball with them in all weathers.... but its not the same.....Im just hoping that its been enough....

Im glad your prince charming found you while your lads were nippers.... that in itself is priceless....


JeanieSpokane said...

((Jen)) Thank you so much! I love your blog!

JeanieSpokane said...


Where was Mr. Mechanic Man when the boys were 2 and 3???? The regular bathroom routines were a challenge. How to show your sons the art of peeing standing up. I was totally flummoxed all the time. It took another little older tyke to show them. And then it was "Let the games BEGIN!"