One of my favorite stories my Grandma tells (aside from the one about how the Prosen clan descended from cross-dressing gypsy chicken thieves) is the story of how she met, fell in love with, and became engaged to my Grandpa.
They met through her family and started dating when Grandma was teaching Latin and English in Milwaukee. Grandpa was working on the railroad with her uncle and he introduced the pair of them. They dated for a time, but Grandma never really felt like she could be sure about my Grandpa's feelings. He liked her, that much was apparent. But she was in her late 20s, ready to settle down and start a family. She felt like Grandpa was being wishy-washy.
At some point she became fed up with it. She had been offered a job in Sparta, WI--nearly 200 miles from Milwaukee. She accepted it. She told my Grandpa that she was still on the rail-line and if they were serious they would find a way to make it work. If they weren't she would find out sooner rather than later and he could go chase himself.
So she moved. Taught. Enjoyed herself. Grandpa came to visit on weekends. She saw him when she was in Milwaukee for holidays. After months of this, Grandpa came to her exasperated and said something like:
"Jane, either we're in love or we aren't. If we are, you have to marry me because I can't stand being without you any more."
They were engaged soon after.
What I love most about this story is it reminds me of Gram's stubbornness and independence. The former quality has been handed down to most (if not all) of the family. I like to think that the independent streak shows up in us as well.
I wonder what would have happened if Grandma hadn't decided to leave. If she would have stayed in Milwaukee. Certainly, she could have waited Grandpa out there. If she would have been a little less stubborn, a little less independent.
At anyrate, I'm glad she was. And I'm happy to have inherited both her stubbornness and independence.
Here's hoping they pay off.
***
Waiting
Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one who never had any conditions, the one who waited you out. This is life's way of letting you know that you are lucky. -Eleanor Lerman "Starfish."
When I told you I just wanted to stay friends, you smiled and said that friendship was ok too. Then you threw yourself whole-heartedly into that friendship. I was a little less enthusiastic, but tried my best anyway. You'd look after my house while I was away. I brought you ginger ale and homemade soup when you were sick. We celebrated my birthday together, went to the movies, shared dinner and inside jokes. You knew my favorite red wine and I knew that heights make you tremble. It was until much later--you forgot your scarf on my kitchen table and I picked it up and it smelled like your perfume--that I realized what you had done.
