Chapter 4, Part II: Our Adventurous Romance

If I told you my story
You would hear Hope that wouldn’t let go
And if I told you my story
You would hear Love that never gave up
And if I told you my story
You would hear Life, but it wasn’t mine

If I should speak then let it be
Of the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

-Excerpt from My Story by Big Daddy Weave

Part I

The year was 1993, and the countdown was on. My plane ticket was purchased for an August 8^th departure, due to return on August 21^st, and my mind was spinning. How in the world had I gotten myself into such an overwhelming situation?! I was planning to marry a man I had never even kissed. In fact, we haven’t even gone on a date! Of course, over the course of our months of corresponding, I often considered visiting him in Hungary. However, I also had multiple reasons for never actually going. For one thing, I had no one in Hungary to stay with, had I decided to spend a few weeks there. Another reason was my finances, which were extremely limited working as a legal secretary in downtown Cleveland. My savings would not have come nearly close to covering a plane ticket and a stay in a hotel for the duration of my visit. All the money I was already spending on phone calls were taking a toll. Plus, I knew that I would be putting myself in a very vulnerable situation, and chances were good that temptation would get the best of us. I had no doubt about the fact that I wanted to marry Lajos, and I didn’t have to prove it to myself by going. To make things even more challenging, I was only going for a two week stay! My workplace allowed me three weeks of vacation per year, and I was somehow confident that my husband would be returning to the States with me at the end of those two weeks. My plan was that we would be married in a civil ceremony in Budapest, and then have a formal wedding in the States once we returned. My third week of vacation, I wanted to reserve for a simple honeymoon following our wedding.

In most of Europe, only civil marriages are recognized, and without that, Lajos’ chances of being able to come to the States was limited. In a few years, he might eventually have been granted permission to do so, but we were young and in love! Multiple people told me that I’d need to spend a few months in Hungary in order to pull this off. There was absolutely no way I would be able to do that. I couldn’t afford to leave my job, especially since I’d have to be financially stable while my husband was trying to settle into his new life in the States and find work himself; so I decided that if this marriage was truly God’s will for my life, He’d have to make it happen in two weeks. I wasn’t ignorant about the process. I was doing my research as much as I was able to. I learned that the laws in Hungary were quite different than they are in the States. However, I also learned that since neither I, nor my husband were citizens of that country, most of its laws didn’t actually apply to us at that time. I made multiple phone calls to confirm that fact, and Lajos did his legwork there as well. This was before internet and the handy computer access we enjoy today, so information was hard to obtain, and was not always consistent. We would learn just how inconsistent the information between various agencies was once we embarked on the process.

However, that was still a couple of months away. I had lots of time during those months to allow my anxieties to get the best of me on multiple occasions. I also occasionally wondered if I was truly making the right decision for my life, and pondered the sanity of what I was planning to do. The Hungarian community in Cleveland is not huge, and I knew that if word got out about my plans, I would have a million questions to answer, and people would be quick to judge and criticize. I also considered that if for some reason I decided not to go through with this marriage once I had traveled there, the rumor mill would get going, and quickly. I didn’t want myself or my family to be tainted by rumors, so I kept quiet about the whole thing. My best friend knew about my plans, and my immediate family. To everyone else, appearances were that I was still single and available.

Now that my plans were firm, I had to inform a few other people. For instance, I had to tell those at my workplace, since I’d be needing the time off. I worked for a boss who happened to be a very tough lady. She hired me straight out of high school at the age of 17 because she saw potential in me before I did, and invested a lot of time growing me into the positions I held. Our working relationship turned to friendship through the years I’d know her, but at that time, I’d only been working for her for two years, and I didn’t share much about my personal life. She would later share with me that she always saw me as the daughter she never had, and was quite protective of my young self. Yet, I had to drop quite the bomb about my plans, and I knew she wouldn’t take my news well.

She actually turned pale as I sat in her office to explain what I was doing; proceeded to ask if this was an “arranged marriage” situation (it wasn’t!); and was pleading with me to give this relationship more time….basically, to reconsider my decision. Of course, she also asked how my parents felt about it. Since that conversation went so well, I proceeded to tell my other co-workers. I had no choice, it was happening, and I couldn’t keep quiet at least at my workplace for much longer. I can imagine the hardy conversations they had about what I was doing. I was very determined though. I took my desk calendar, and ceremoniously marked each day with a large number for the countdown until my flight to Budapest. Each morning, I’d announce, “Only [number] days left ‘til my trip!” They could see my excitement, but didn’t necessarily share in it. My boss would often roll her eyes, and most of my other co-workers “knew” they were watching a mistake happen right in front of their eyes. A few did enjoy the ‘romance’ of it all, but I knew they were all concerned. This young, inexperienced and clearly naïve 19 year-old was marrying some guy overseas; a person she only met one year prior for an encounter that lasted less than two hours around a friend’s dinner table. This made for juicy water cooler gossip, and I knew it.

To make matters worse, I didn’t even have a ring! Lajos’ proposal happened over the phone, and he had no way of providing me a ring to formally stake his claim for all to see. I knew he had one for me, one that he received from his grandmother, but he insisted he would not allow me to wear a ring that didn’t cost him anything. He had the gifted ring melted down and re-created into a small heart pendant on a chain for me. However, that didn’t make things easy on the rare occasions when I was cornered into having to reveal my relationship status. I was approached a few times during those months for dates, and it usually made for awkward explanations.

On one of my daily commutes from downtown Cleveland, riding the bus back to my home in the suburbs, I recall a very well dressed, darker skinned man, with distinct European features, get on the bus and take the seat next to me. He quickly struck up a conversation, deliberately ignoring the fact that I was trying to be immersed in my latest John Grisham novel. He proceeded to introduce himself, in an unmistakable European accent, but one that I didn’t recognize. Growing up in my ethnic community, I was well versed in the various accents of immigrants; whether they were Hungarians, Romanians or even Germans; and having lived in Cleveland with its substantial Latino population, I even knew what it sounds like when they spoke English. This accent, however, was not like the rest. He explained that he was only hopping onto the bus to get off a few stops later. This revealed the reason for his eagerness to strike up a quick conversation.

He explained that he was a diplomat from Belgium here for his usual visits, but that he’d love to treat me to dinner that evening. By now, I was not a very trusting person, so I have no idea if any of this was actually true, but it did finally explain his features and unusual accent. However, when I explained that I was marrying my fiancé in about a month, he glanced at my hand. No ring. “Yes, I know. He lives in Budapest.” At this, he had a hearty laugh and asked with no shortage of sarcasm, “And you think he’s being faithful to you?!” Did I really think so? Yes, I did. His stop arrived in the next few minutes near Cleveland’s historic West Side Market, a haven for European visitors. He stood to make his exit, but not before he handed me his business card, insisting that I call on him once I realized the mistake I was making. He continued to watch me from the sidewalk as the bus drove away, wearing an expression of unabashed disdain. Eventually, I looked at the handsome card with the outline of a stately building and some regal, gold lettering. It seemed like such a waste to just toss something so intricate into the trash, so I laid it down on the, now, bare seat next to me, and rode the remainder of my commute in silence. The card would remain on that seat once I exited at my stop.

Part II

Although the first order of business was finalizing the necessary paperwork for our civil ceremony in Hungary, at the same time, I was also planning my wedding which would follow once we returned. These plans weren’t ideal, but it allowed Lajos’ parents and family to be present and celebrate the civil part with us, and my side of the family would celebrate with the wedding here. Of course, in an ideal world, both sides of the family would have attended both. That, however, was unrealistic. Thankfully, pictures and videos would capture both events.

Planning these special events, however, when no one around you even knows you’re in a relationship has its challenges. It’s certainly not something I’d recommend to anyone. Like any other bride-to-be, I would have loved to have had the chance to pick out dresses with friends, and gush over all the details of the event that would be a huge milestone in my life. In my case, I was basically on my own. My mom was my only partner in crime, but let’s be honest, my parents struggled with this whole thing as well. Once my plans became firm, my father’s demeanor gradually changed. The closer the date of my departure was getting, the quieter and more withdrawn he became. He wasn’t against my plans, but I’m sure this all added a few new worry lines to his forehead that summer. My mother was dealing with it in her own way, trying to be strong, but I knew it took a toll on them both. She at one point suggested joining me on my trip, but I was adamant that she would absolutely not. I needed uninterrupted time to spend with Lajos there, and the last thing I wanted was to think about how she was dealing with it all, and what she would be doing as we were rushing around to handle all the legalities. I needed to date this man, and definitely not with my mother in tow!

I had to pick out two very special dresses. The first one would be for the civil ceremony. I spent several days going store-to-store, trying to find the perfect dress, but my budget had me limited. I finally found a silk two-piece dress with a flowing royal blue skirt and a floral button-down top that was breathtaking. This was the most money I’d ever spent on a dress. It was over $100! My mom was there, and was insistent that it was worth every penny. Finding my wedding gown was a whole other story. I pictured a long, flowing gown with a long train. I had no idea about the style I’d want, so I was open to anything. Walking through the local mall one Saturday morning, I decided to enter a store that displayed the gown of my dreams in the window. The fact that it was displayed so prominently told me it would be out of my league. I just had to try it on though. I walked in, by myself, and explained that I wanted to try on the gown (if for no other reason, but to know what it felt like to wear the beautiful gown and learn what it feels like to be a bride). The sales lady glanced around and saw no one with me. “I’m here by myself. This is my first time trying on a gown, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision,” I explained. By now, I didn’t feel the need to explain my predicament to anyone that didn’t need to know. It was gorgeous. The gown took my breath away. Everything about it was what I didn’t know I was looking for….except the train. In fact, it had no train at all! I noticed this before I tried it on, of course, but it was otherwise so beautiful. She explained that it can be altered, or I might consider picking out an extra-long veil to double as a train, but the gown was out of my league in pricing already. Plus, I was trying to picture the angle of my head and neck, as I’d try to drag a long, heavy veil. If someone might step on the thing as I walked, my head would snap back, and I was already not known for being a very graceful person. I was a tomboy my entire life, but on this day, I wanted to shine!

I took the gown off, and left the store only to break down in tears minutes later. This was not supposed to be something I had to do by myself. I wanted to have the support and input of people I cared about. I was also regretting my limited budget for everything that I wanted. What kind of a wedding would I have when I couldn’t buy the things I longed for? My last day of gown shopping was a little more planned. My mom was there for the pre-scheduled appointments with me, and that gave me a huge sense of relief. The only problem was that I was nothing like the brides on television these days. I literally thought each gown I tried on was “the one”! I tried on several different styles because I had no idea what I was looking for. My only issue was that none had the long train I envisioned. Finally, the sales lady pulled a discontinued model that was just removed from the store’s display. It was a gorgeous long-sleeved gown, with intricate, hand-stitching all over it. I favored hand-stitched designs over lace, so this was super exciting. To make it even better, it had my dream train. I tried it on, and this gown fit like a glove, to the point that it required no alterations at all. The sales lady remarked that this gown was made for my body! Additionally, because it was discontinued, they had to sell it at a discount that made it affordable, even for us. I couldn’t believe I was leaving the store with the gown. This was now truly getting real!

My undercover wedding planning continued, however, for the weeks leading up to my trip. After the way my life was playing out, I knew I wanted a large wedding, if only to make up for everything this momentous occasion in my life lacked. I wouldn’t get the chance to enjoy the excitement of friends and family that surrounds a wedding for months leading up to it; I couldn’t show off my gown to my friends, or have them help me pick out the cake and invitations. Everything was under wraps, so to make up for it, I was determined to make it memorable, despite our limited budget.

One of my big predicaments was that I needed bridesmaid dresses for the girls in my wedding party. Of course, most of them didn’t know there was a wedding being planned, so asking them was out of the question. Not only that, I didn’t feel comfortable asking these families, who were fellow immigrants, to buy expensive gowns for their daughters to wear at my wedding. My favorite color was royal blue, and I began hitting the pavement, going store-to-store for some solution, praying about even the smallest details that were burdensome for this young bride-to-be. One store I walked into had a round rack of royal blue bridesmaid dresses. It looked like they were ready to be picked-up for the event that weekend. They were all pressed and covered in plastic. I asked about them and was told that those dresses were there as a result of a canceled wedding. They were being sent off to a discounter to be sold. I walked out a few minutes later with six dresses that would be worn by some girls oblivious to the fact that they’d be in a wedding soon! The discount was so substantial that renting them would have cost me more. I even found matching pearl necklaces for the girls at the dollar store. All the pieces of my life were coming together and were fitting together like those of an intricate puzzle.

Before long, August 8^th arrived. I was packed up and ready to go on this trip that would forever change my life! Off we went to the airport with my family. Needless to say, this was emotionally challenging for all of us. Yet, I could hardly wait to board the plane, my excitement was so palpable. My parents smiled nervously as they prepared to see me off. Soon, they announced boarding time, and the reality of it all hit me like a bolt of lightning. I went around and kissed and hugged my brothers, and then my parents. My dad was the last person I’d say goodbye to, and I knew he was in emotional turmoil. He held strong though, and I was glad for it. He became distracted for a moment, and I turned to head down the corridor to the plane’s door. I glanced back at my family one last time, but was struck by the sight of my dad. The instant I turned is the same moment he looked my way and realized where I was now standing. The look on his face will be seared into my memory forever. I could immediately see the turmoil in his eyes, and the distraught expression on his face as he was letting his little girl get on this plane, head overseas by herself into the arms of another man, who to him remained a stranger. I instantly broke down in tears at the sight of him, and continued to cry as I entered the plane and settled into my seat. Now, I don’t do things the way elegant, proper ladies should. If I cry, it’s ugly. I tried to turn my face towards the window to hide my overwhelming emotions. The tears, however, were relentless. It was like the Hoover Dam gave way and released everything it was holding back for so many years. I knew my face was redder than a tomato and wetter than a waterslide. On a side note, why do planes not stock tissues?! Finally, once I settled down, the gentleman in the seat next to me asked if I was okay. “Oh yes! I’m heading to Budapest to get married!”

Following a layover in Newark, I embarked on the overseas part of my flight, and immediately noticed the large number of Hungarian passengers. I knew some of them, while others were complete strangers. I was rather uncomfortable with the passenger who sat next to me, however, and for good reason. My family was eager to put on the best possible wedding they could for their only daughter. Growing up, I always envisioned my wedding as probably most girls do: walking down the aisle in my beautiful wedding gown, at an elegant church with colorful stained glass windows, while the sounds of a pipe organ play the wedding march. The church I was hoping to have it in, I knew, was out of reach financially. It was large, but not overwhelming, and had the added benefit of an adjoining banquet facility. While the convenience of having both the church and dinner hall at one place was ideal, it was also very costly. The only way we could possibly afford it is if we would cook the wedding dinner ourselves, instead of hiring their kitchen staff to cook and serve it. We were told that this hasn’t been allowed before at this venue, but we had advocates who went to bat for us and asked the church’s leadership to allow this one-time exception. Our request was not very well received, considering the loss of income to the kitchen staff. However, the decision came down that they would allow this exception. It was going to be an October wedding, and by then the wedding season slowed considerably, so they had nothing to lose. No one else was booking the adjoining hall for an event that day, so it was going to be better to rent it out to us this way, rather than have us go elsewhere. The passenger seated next to me was the church’s cook. Yes, the very one. She did not recognize who I was, and I was determined to keep it that way. It was not easy avoiding the entire topic of my upcoming wedding, especially since I was once again giddy with excitement, but I knew I had to. My ten hour flight now felt like it took twice as long.

Part III

My plane was finally landing in Budapest. I was so anticipating the sight of Lajos after all these months that I could barely sit still. During the last hour of the flight, my emotions went from butterflies in my stomach, to eager anticipation, to trying to figure out my first words to him, to wondering if he’d be pleased or disappointed at the way I looked. Let’s face it, by then I was awake for too many hours. I never could sleep on planes, not necessarily because I was scared to fly, but I knew if things went awry, I had to see my demise happen. After all, I wouldn’t want to wake up in Heaven not knowing how in the world I got there so fast!

My nervous excitement was culminating in an avalanche of emotions as the plane finally landed. I gathered my carry-ons and purse, and was determined to be one of the first passengers to bolt off the plane, into Lajos’ welcoming arms! That, however, would not be. As the plane taxied to a stop, my stomach cramped up to the point that I couldn’t move. As a woman, I’m very familiar with stomach cramps. This, however, was a whole new level of pain. I could not move. I crouched over and held my stomach, trying to breathe deep and slow, hoping it would release me from its grasp quickly. The plane was emptying around me, and I just stared in awe at the bare seats around me. I’m sure that wasn’t the case, but it felt like everyone else was in a frantic rush to get off. They were successful. I, however, was making no progress at all. One of the flight attendants finally came over to see if I was feeling alright. I assured her that I was, and was slowly beginning to move as my anxiety-induced cramps released me from their steel grip. By now, I knew Lajos had to wonder if I bailed at the last minute.

I slowly walked out of the plane, fearing another attack of the cramps, but they didn’t return. Soon, an adrenaline high hit me like a rocket. I could almost run, except I had to pick up my checked bags before I could exit to the greeting area, where I knew he was waiting. However, I was packed to the nine’s, and the clumsy bags I carried were hindering my progress. Not only that, but there was no way for me to make a graceful appearance dragging a large suitcase, a huge garment bag, a full-sized carry-on, a camera bag, and a purse. The last time Lajos saw me in person, I was a mess. This time had to be a little different, not just for this moment, but because I feared he would remember my long-anticipated appearance this way for years to come! I did not want to be an ungraceful, clumsy mess, dragging everything and panting with sweaty brows as I’d finally make my way over to him. So I hired an attendant to assist me. I didn’t actually intend to “hire” him, he just seemed to be attached to the roller cart I needed, and he continued to helpfully follow me. Once he fulfilled his task, I thanked and tipped him and turned to walk down the final corridor where Lajos would be waiting. I’ve always been a good tipper, but I’d later learn that what I gave him in American dollars likely gave him bragging rights. I always struggled with currency conversions.

As I made my way down the winding hallway, I heard the many excited voices of people welcoming and greeting each other in the area that led to the exits. My heart jumped when I realized that just a few final few steps, and we would be together. Lajos was waiting, by now, leaning against the wall, and once we made eye contact, a huge smile appeared on his face. I couldn’t help but to laugh from sheer joy and relief as I rushed over to him. This was our first kiss. How many months did I wait for this moment! I barely noticed the enormous bouquet he had in his hand. It was literally so big that I needed to hold it using both hands! I was flattered, but relieved and excited, along with a myriad of emotions that hit me all at once. Most of all, I felt safe and at peace. We both had so much to say, to ask, but we just couldn’t get enough of just seeing each other in person. Holding hands, and looking into each other’s eyes was the sweetest reward for these months of anticipation.

It would have been ideal to take a few days to not only talk for hours on end, take long walks together, and explore the beautiful city surrounding us; in fact, just taking time to adjust to the time change and recover from jetlag would have been great. Time, however, was not on our side. Of course, once the offices we had to visit closed for the day, we did have some time for those things, but the official parts of my trip took center stage. So the day after I arrived, we embarked on the adventurous journey of trying to legally marry.

Because of the civil marriage requirement that we had to fulfill, the first order of business was to go to the American Embassy for formal instruction and assistance. From there, we were sent to the various agencies to take care of the necessary paperwork. However, we immediately encountered unexpected resistance to our plans. One issue we encountered was that I was not a resident for their expected three month waiting period. When we explained at one of the local Municipal Registrar offices in Budapest that I was there for a mere two weeks, the representative laughed at us for having such naïve expectations. I tried to explain that the residency laws don’t apply to non-citizens, but that statement didn’t do us any favors. We stopped at an “express” translation office to have my Romanian birth certificate translated into Hungarian, but their otherwise express service was not going to be able to get it done in time for us to marry. When my husband went to pick-up a document called a Certificate of Impediment, we were turned away because the person who distributes them was on vacation. Three strikes against us in two days. I was distraught beyond words. As we walked down the historic district near the Danube, contemplating our next move, I finally broke down crying. “But I thought for sure this was God’s plan for us, and it’s not happening!” Lajos sat me down on a bench and tried to reassure me.

For the second time since our initial meeting, we were heading back to the Embassy to explain our predicament. “This can’t be,” one of the advocates explained in frustration, and once again, she headed back to her office to make a phone call. Bureaucracy was alive and well, and we were falling victims to it. For some reason though, the Consulate representatives had compassion on our situation, and several of them were eager to help. Within a few minutes, we were instructed to head back to the office that turned us away for my husband’s document, and the instant we arrived, the attendant, who initially turned us away, apologized for the misunderstanding. He then explained that someone filling in for the vacationing worker was available. We were also sent to an alternate translation office where the “express” service was a little more “express” than the prior one we were sent to, and were told to return for my translated birth certificate the next day; finally, we managed to obtain our marriage license in the small, but romantic town of Szentendre, where the vacationing Registrar’s absence worked in our favor. When Lajos previously spoke with her, she was adamant about my three-month stay. However, her replacement employee provided us the legal documents that confirmed that the laws in place at that time absolved us of the mandatory waiting period. She quickly drafted a Certificate to that effect, and we immediately scheduled our ceremony for the following Tuesday, August 17^th!

Before we left, we asked what we needed to have with us. We were so accustomed to presenting every legal document we could think of at each office, that we expected to be given a list. She looked at us and simply asked, “do you have rings?” We didn’t! With everything that had to be done, shopping for rings was simply the last thing on our minds. We assured her that by that coming Tuesday, we would!

Each day, I returned to the hotel exhausted. Lajos graciously dropped me off and we said our goodbye’s for the night. He would return to his apartment and come pick me up in the mornings. This happened each day of my stay as we made our preparations. One evening, as I headed up the stairs, the desk clerk stopped me and asked, with an obvious air of sarcasm why my “boyfriend” wasn’t spending the nights with me. Was I shy? Was it because I was some old-fashioned country girl? “No, I’m not shy. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m marrying him on Tuesday, and we plan to make up for lost time over many years together. And actually, yes. If Transylvania is considered an old-fashioned country, then I fit the bill. However, I’ve lived in the U.S. most of my life.” He was taken aback by my reply. I won’t lie, I didn’t appreciate his remark, which was clearly meant to insult my “sheltered” self, as he perceived me. Of course, my facial expressions usually betray my emotions, so I’m sure I was looking the part. “I thought you guys in the States were way more forward thinking, and live together for years unmarried.” “Yes, of course, lots of people do. However, a number of us hold ourselves to a different standard.” With that, I turned and continued on to my room.  This encounter seemed to have established a mutual understanding between he and I, and instead of being insulted, he treated me with an unexpected level of respect.

We had a few days remaining to plan the final details of our ceremony. We invited a pastor, who was a family friend; telephoned Lajos’ parents to let them know the date; and informed his friends and relatives about our upcoming ceremony. We then visited a few restaurants to find one that could host our last-minute celebratory dinner; and finally, we shopped for our rings! This ring was one I had dreamed of for so long. It would represent the marriage I longed for. We found a set of beautifully etched gold bands. It was not traditional to have diamonds in wedding bands, or even have a set of two rings the way we do in the States. Yet, to me, it was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. It represented so much love and relief, and yes, providence. No, we couldn’t have done all this ourselves, but once again, I could clearly see God’s hands moving in our lives. This was not supposed to happen, and without such clear providence, it wouldn’t have. God graciously brought people into our lives and guided us to the places where we had to be.

August 17^th was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. I was ecstatic to finally wear the beautiful dress I found for the occasion. To my absolute delight, we had an entire entourage join us at the local Municipal Registrar’s office where our civil ceremony would take place. It was short, fun, and memorable. We then walked the cobblestone streets of Szentendre to the restaurant where we feasted like royalty. The warm summer evening in this historic, beautiful city was the capstone on the adventure I couldn’t have imagined. Lajos (now, Louis) couldn’t return to the States with me. Paperwork for that took a few additional weeks to process, but three weeks later, friends and family were at the local airport in Cleveland welcoming his arrival.

Once I returned, I didn’t have much time to rest and savor the events that had taken place on the other side of the world. Time seemed to have sped up as I prepared to finish planning my wedding. The invitations were mailed, flowers ordered, and all the final details worked out in order to make our day special. Now, I could finally, freely discuss my new relationship status, and that was no easy task. When I asked a few of my bridesmaids and groomsmen to be a part of my wedding, several just gawked at me in shock. One quickly exclaimed, “You have a boyfriend?” “No. Technically, I have a husband….so would you be in my wedding?”

Our October 2^nd wedding was the crowning jewel to our romantic journey. It was big, beautiful, and to us, perfect in every way. We now have the privilege of looking back at that journey having celebrated 25 years of marriage, a marriage so many thought was doomed to fail. Yet, here we are. We are grateful for our journey that resulted in such fond memories, three wonderful sons, and the ups-and-downs we get to encounter daily.