Our Love Story

      The seminar was interesting, but it was all day long. As the day wore on we began to write little comments back and forth on my notepad. When we broke for lunch, we were as close to friends as total strangers ever are, and we had lunch together. Then we continued to scribble the occasional joke or comment as the afternoon session wore on. That evening, we walked all around the grounds and visited the game room. We played basketball with flattened balls, and ping-pong with broken paddles. Then we went to lobby of the little cabin I was staying in and listened to the radio and talked. I specifically remember saying that it’s weird being with people at a seminar far from home because you know you’re never going to see them again. (Clearly, I’m no psychic!)

      The next morning there was a half day session, after which everyone was to be driven to the airport to fly to their various home states. But Mark had driven down to the seminar since he worked in Austin, Texas, and he asked if he could drive me to the airport so that we could have lunch before I caught my plane. I said sure. I really thought nothing of it.

      We drove through pouring rain, trying to follow the van full of the other people. Neither of us knew the way to the airport. At last we got to the airport, but it was under all kinds of construction. It proved to be a daunting task to even find a restuarant where a ticketed passenger and a non-passenger could eat together. Ar last we succeeded. We ate lunch, talked for a while, and at last, my departure time neared. As I departed the tram to go into the secured area, Mark pressed his business card into my hand and mumbled, “If you ever want to call...” He hugged me and awkwardly half-kissed my neck and hair. Then he was gone.

      About a week later, I was going through my wallet, throwing away old receipts and things I didn’t need when I ran across his card. I read the address. Bee Cave Road. This struck me as funny, so I drew a cartoon and faxed it to him. Within 10 minutes, he faxed me back. “Can I call you this weekend?” I faxed him back, “Sure.” and my phone number.

      We talked for several hours when he called, though truth be told there were ten of my words for his every one. I am a talker, he is a listener. Over the course of several months, the phone calls back and forth grew to be something that happened 3 times a week, then 5 times a week. Finally, it was nearly every day. We even started to watch TV together and sometimes we would both rent the same movie so that we could coordinate our VCRs and watch it together.

      By this time, I had an idea that Mark had a crush on me, but I didn’t take it seriously. Mark and I were in different states. I had my two kids that my ex-husband and I share. Mark was just my friend. Yet I was finding myself attracted to him, even though our phone conversations were in no way sexual at all. He came to visit me in Janauary. We saw Bill Cosby perform, we went to the beach, we had a great time. And we moved our relationship forward. When it was time to fly back to Texas, Mark said he didn’t want to go.

      We continued our phone conversations and watched more movies together on the phone. We planned another trip, this time for the end of May. And he told me that he loved me. He said he wanted to move to Naples, to be with me. I told him that I loved him too, but I didn’t want to uproot his life. What if it didn’t work out? Meanwhile, my back had started to hurt a little in the evenings, but I attributed it to some minor misalignment from a rear-end collison that had occured a few months back. I was on the phone headset with Mark the evening of April 30, 2004 when I had an agonizing pain shoot through my torso. I tried to move, and I couldn’t. I screamed in pain and started to cry. And then I told him that I couldn’t move, and that I had to call 911.

      Mark spent a long, sleepless night waiting to find out what had happened to me. I was removed from my home strapped to a board. I was immediately sedated when I arrived at the hospital, and so I wasn’t able to call him until the next morning. He immediately made plans to move his trip earlier. As it turned out that I had a broken back and wouldn’t be able to drive for several months, he wanted to move to my house to help me and take care of me. I told him he was nuts. I told him that I would leave me if I could. But I decided that he was a big boy. He could uproot his life if he wanted too. God knew, I could use the help.