She was 12 and he was 14. This is the story of how they met.
In the summer of 1962, the city of Grand Rapids, Michigan offered a few summer science clubs for kids. Among them were a herpetology club (reptiles) and a geology club (rocks). As if it was meant to be, both clubs went together to visit a local quarry for one particular field trip.
It makes a lot of sense really… Rocks tend to get warm on sunny summer days and snakes tend to like warm rocks. It’s almost as if it was meant to be.
Anecdotal history leaves out much of the day, which was apparently reasonably successful for both clubs. For our purposes, we pick up the story as the field trip was winding down.
A tallish, lanky freshman-to-be was walking back to the buses with a couple of “snake bags.” Formerly known as Lucille’s pillowcases, forever changed in purpose based on their current scaled occupants, they were quite light and easy to carry.
For those wondering, a white pillowcase is the perfect mobile domicile for a reptile. Because of the color the animal can’t focus on the fabric, it seems to be somewhat soothing. It’s also soft and unabrasive against their skin. At least this is what that young man would tell people for the rest of his life. We may never know how Lucille felt about losing the household bedding, but we can guess that she might not be so quick to think it was meant to be.
I digress. That freshman-to-be happened to walk past a young woman who was, at the time, the same age my daughter is now. So yeah, this story puts some things into perspective for a dad. She was carrying a massive rock with the hopes of getting it back to the club to break it apart and see what mysteries of creation lay within.
A warrior even then, she was determined to get this boulder to the bus.
That is how they met. Little did they know that in one single conversation, they would together establish a value that would come to define a relationship what would last their earthly lives.
“If you carry my snakes, I’ll carry your rock.”
And this is the place in the story where eyebrows go up. Where listeners to this tale begin to get nervous. Women whisper, “Snakes? Surely not!” Men wonder, “What else could we use pillow cases for?” Women, who can read minds, say “Don’t even think about it.”
But if you know those two at all, it makes perfect sense.
She did carry his snakes and he carried her rock. That’s the story of how Craig met Joanie. That’s the story of how they have done life and marriage ever since.
One thinks big and the other has a flair for the unique. One knows how to dig through things and find the best, in both rocks and in people. The other is all heart and a hard worker. They both go to the same place and see different things and work together. They both love people and creation and a simpler way of life. They are blessed and they are a blessing.
They both love each other and they trust each other. They trust the ways that God has made the other. Through the years, they have modeled the best of love and partnership and they have modeled how to get through difficult times together. Because love carries.
So happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thanks for carrying some snakes all those years ago. Thanks for carrying all of us ever since. More than anything, though, thanks for showing us how to carry, too.
Between now and Father’s Day, I thought I’d share some thoughts and stories about Mom and Dad. They’re both amazing and have been an incredible influence on my life. Each in their own right, they’ve taught me innumerable lessons. They are both worthy of far more holidays than they get. Yet I only know life because of both of them together. I only am who I am today because of both of them together. So the stories over these next several weeks are going to be together stories, because that’s what they have most exemplified. Mom, Dad, I love you both.