Just a Little Update

Update: I've decided to stop double-posting and will keep all of my Falling Part chapters just on my writing blog.  I just put up "Games, Part II", so head on over and leave a comment, K?  www.happilyeverwriting.blogspot.com

Meanwhile, here are some recent family photos as a little treat for stopping by here:

Every photo shoot needs a scary ninja pose.

First day of Kindergarten!  All spiffed up in new Ninjago clothes.

Uncle Chad and Grandma and Grandpa had been with us during the past week, but would be gone before Goldie got home from school.  She knew it would be a long time before our next visit with them.  So, Goldie had an emotional goodbye the morning of her first day of 3rd grade.  It was so nice that she got to have special people at the bus stop to see her off though : ).

First day back at school for the papa that week, too.  Year two at the college here in PA...and still loving it!

This is me trying to catch up with my middle schoolers, who felt too rushed to stop for a photo.  Their 6:50 a.m. bus ride comes very early in the morning.

I caught them, ha!  Didi looks taller than Shark in this picture, but it must have been her heels...he still has her beat by about 1/2 an inch right now.  Didi started 6th grade, and Shark started 7th.

At Knoebels, an amusement park where the kids all got to try out their first roller coasters.  Most were fans and went on again and again, but Tootie says no thanks, for now. 

Here is an x-ray of Shark's not-broken ankle, thank goodness.  Football injury.  Still hurts, but at least we know there's hope for a quicker recovery...fingers crossed.  Too bad he has to miss this season, though : (.

Gettysburg--a great day-trip!!

Too bad we couldn't find Goldie's matching shirt.

JazznJenna forever ; )   (overlooking Gettysburg)

The Falling Part: Let the Games Begin

"Someday you're going to marry someone like Neal Preston," Dad said, priding himself in knowing more about the future than his young teenage daughter.

"Ew, Dad, don't be gross.  I mean, Neal is kind of cute on the outside, but he's such a nerd.  I would rather marry someone funny, like Pete," I answered.

Mom chimed in even more insightfully, "I think you'll find someone that is as handsome as Neal, and as funny as Pete, and he'll be the right one."

I was just relieved that I would be in charge of that choice, and not my parents.  Because...Neal?  I could never be into someone like him.

---

Neal had been around for ages.  He was just a few months older than me, was a member of the church, and he happened to be a best friend to my older brother Bryan, so he even came over to my house once in a while.  I loved the way those two would pal around on the piano together, and always admired both of them for their musical gifts.  Eventually as Neal and I grew up a little, our common interests and talents brought us to the same locations and activities time after time, especially during our junior and senior years of high school. 

Neal was one of those "brains" that excelled in everything he studied, and seemed able to master any new skill in about 5 minutes.   He somehow gradually and mysteriously managed to lose his nerdiness and became a wonderful friend to have around.  He was athletic and certainly competitive enough to give me some good games on the racquetball courts where I worked (I was playing a lot those days), which was a great way for us to nurture our casual friendship.  He was always at the top of our class in grades, so I was fortunate to have him present in my study groups for Calculus and Chemistry.  Sometimes I even relied on him to merely begin to understand some of the lessons (math was always a strong subject for me, but ironically, Chemistry and I were not made for each other). 

During our choir trip to California (you know, the one during which my break up with Cody was in the works), Neal and I discovered together that our voices were a perfect fit for the Phantom of the Opera duets.  He had purchased a musical score after the performance we had seen in San Diego, and we sang along together the whole way home on the bus--I was Christine, and he was either Raoul or the Phantom.  Perhaps it was during our collaboration on those love duets that our first seeds of interest were planted. 

Love seeds planted, lots of time spent together, friendship nurtured through recreation, common interests and studies...attraction building...it's plain to see where this was heading...

Journal Entry, 19 May 1991:
I'm beginning to like Neal Preston.  He's so awesome--he plays the piano wonderfully, he has an awesome voice, and he's very strong in the church.  Mom says I should go for him instead of Scott--I'm considering it--but there's just something about Scott--I don't know what it is.

30 May:
Neal and I finally got to perform our duet, "All I Ask of You" from Phantom, twice, at the elementary school performances today.  We did really well.  I could've done better though!  I want Neal to like me back!!!

12 June:
I don't know what to do--I like Neal so much! ...Re-read that sentence 100 times.

14 June:
[Scott was home for the summer with just a few weeks remaining before leaving on his mission.]  Ellie's party tonight was a blast--and I've figured it out--I'm in love with both Neal and Scott. 

16 June: 
I talked to Neal on the phone tonight for about half an hour or 45 minutes : ).  I was up in the clouds.  During our youth activity at church tonight I kept writing his name.  I like him tons.

I filled my summer days with three priorities:  work (I still worked at the fitness center and had added a second job at Burger King), church (I even attended church twice some Sundays so that I could see more of my friends--attending two different congregations, my family's ward and Neal's ward, of course), and all sorts of social activities with no obligations other than to have a good time.  This resulted in a lot more quality time with Neal.

23 June:
Church was kind of boring today.  Maybe it's because I couldn't keep my mind off of Neal.

5 July:
...the only one for me is Neal.  I want to marry him.

So there it stood.  I was in deep.  Did Neal reciprocate my feelings?  Well, that was the tricky part.  Why did I fall so hard and so fast for Neal?  Simple: for him it was a game, and he was the king of this game.  Have you ever heard of the game called "Hard to Get"?  He invented it. 

Was it ever Neal's intention to reel me in?  That's debatable, but once I had decided to join him in the game, I was trapped.  The problem for me was that I couldn't play this game with my own rules, I was expected to play by his rules, and that was very difficult for me.  This wasn't like the Sneaking Peeks game, where the rules were universal and familiar to everyone...this was Neal's game, and it seemed impossible for me to figure out.

I'm not saying there was anything intentionally manipulative about the way Neal handled my feelings.  All I'm saying is that he was the master of keeping the ball in his own court.  Some of my most vivid memories during my falling years included the days that Neal let me get close to him, and how during those moments, I felt happy. 

I'll never forget the best day at the lake in the history of lake days.  A large group of friends, including Neal and myself, planned the afternoon and evening well.  We swam for awhile, and then relaxed on blankets on the beach.  Neal let me run my fingers through his hair, and said he loved it (was I living in a romantic movie?!).  We roasted hot dogs over a camp fire, and to complete the adventure on this perfect day, someone had brought a generator, a television set, and a VCR, that we were able to hook up for our viewing pleasure of an entertaining old comedy, "The Pink Panther Returns." About ten of us cozied up inside a van, and enjoyed the film until long after the sun went down.

I had started out on the floor, but Neal's intuitive cousin Shane (I'll have to tell you about him later) traded places with me so that I could snuggle up to Neal.  I had my head on his shoulder and held his arm securely, and he rested one hand on my leg.  Words can't describe the depth of my feelings of fortune that night--the night when I finally felt allowed to be close to him.

If only that memorable experience at the lake had led to more common bonds right away, but no...this wasn't the time for that.  Not on Neal's timetable, anyway.  There would be more close days to come, but sadly, they were interwoven with more games.


to be continued...

The Falling Part: A Turning Point...Part II

Yes, I wanted a boyfriend that I didn't have to invite to church in order for him to be there, a boyfriend to whom I didn't have to explain or justify my religious culture, and a boyfriend that my parents embraced rather than worried about...but I liked being with Cody.  I liked his gentle, forgiving nature, his sensitive eyes, his calming manners.  I liked how he valued being with me.  He made me feel wanted, special, and loved.

The lingering sorrow in my heart attested to the fact that I didn't want to just be his friend, as I had told him; I wanted to be his girlfriend. So after many tears and talking it over with Mom, Corrie, Corrie's boss, and finally with Cody at his house, we got back together.  Ah, much better!  And I was content, once again.

More sweet kisses and holding hands.  More playing pool and racquetball together, movie dates and watching TV together.  More wearing his cozy Cody-scented black leather jacket (my favorite), and wearing his class ring on a long chain around my neck.  More visits at my work at the fitness center's day care (until my boss said that distraction had to stop), and more finding joy in his presence every day...these were the wonderful benefits of my renewed relationship with Cody over the next few weeks.  It was a tender connection that was meant to be, for now.

No need to worry about that "pathway to marriage" plan for the time being, I was just a young teenager having fun.  Just a girl who wanted to live a little for the present, with no regard for the future, right?

If only it weren't for that one little elephant in the room who kept coming back.

I began to figure out that my faith wasn't just a matter for my future, it was also an ever-developing focus for my present.  I was studying and absorbing the gospel through daily scripture classes (early morning seminary), and approached my Sunday meetings with an eagerness to learn.  For Cody on the other hand, religion still seemed to be a non-priority.  Little by little, our differences in beliefs intensified like a small but growing wedge between us.


Journal Entry, 7 April 1991:
     I talked to Cody on the phone for about 2 1/2 hours tonight.  For about an hour we talked about religion. He asked me questions like, "Do I know my church is true?" and added, "It's impossible to know anything."  I told him I believe, and I'm working to know.  I know that some day I will know if I work at it, and told him he would know too what church is right if he worked to know.  He still doesn't believe I could ever know.  I learned tonight you can't argue with someone about that.  I looked in the scriptures and marked 3 Nephi 18: 20.  "And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you."

I'm curious to know what it was that Cody saw in me, during that time when my feelings for our relationship slowly began to diminish. There was something that continued to draw him to me, even increasingly so, despite my drifting away.  Why was it that when we were reunited after his one-day-long school trip he seemed alone in his feelings of missing me greatly?  Why was I the only one that could see sense in reserving weeknights for schoolwork, and saving our dates for the weekends?   

"What's wrong, Cody?  Why are you so quiet this morning?" I asked, uncomfortable with his silence.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he said.  "Don't worry about it. There's nothing we could do about it anyway; it's not important."  Obviously, it was important, but he wasn't yet ready to discuss the cause of his blues.

Later, at lunch, he revealed, "I just hate that we never do anything together anymore.  Besides at school, I only get to see you maybe once on the weekend and that's it.  And what makes me the most frustrated is that you didn't even tell me about your big California trip coming up."

My week-long choir trip to San Diego was a big deal, but I had neglected to mention it.  I didn't have a good reason.  I hadn't meant to upset him, and regretted the awkward tension.  Still, it added to the evidence that Cody and I were not on the same page as much as before. 

Journal Entry, 20 April 1991:
     We went to see Dances with Wolves tonight in the theater.  It was a really good movie, I cried a little at the end.  It was nice to sit close again.  I wish I could do that all the time.  I don't mean necessarily with him, I mean I wish I was married and in love.  I wish Cody was Mormon, it would make things so much easier--I wouldn't have to worry about when we'll break up.

The time for my trip came, and Cody feared the effect our separation would have on my need or desire for our togetherness overall.  When I called him to say goodbye, we argued.  I hated that.  I chose to leave without his class ring that I always wore around my neck in my determination to not think about him for a few days.

The choir trip was a dream.  One of those cloud 9 kind of dreams that you hate waking up from.  We performed our hearts out and made beautiful music; traveled to new and exciting places--like the Strip in Las Vegas; saw amazing shows like The Phantom of the Opera starring Michael Crawford, and the Barnum and Bailey Brother's Circus; and solidified life-long friendship bonds all the while.  During this trip some of my most favorite high school memories were made.

There was hardly any time for sadness during this trip, but imposing thoughts of Cody kept me tied to a challenging reality--it was decision time once again.  I felt our time together had run its course, and although I knew from experience that breaking up was not necessarily a happy change, I knew it was a necessary change.  I would be okay with it this time, for real.  I would do it as soon as I got home.

"Cody, I want to break up," I nervously said before school on my first day back, hesitant only because I didn't want to hurt him.  "I think we should just be friends from now on."

"I know.  I want to break up, too," he answered, and the lack of surprise in his response caught me a little off-guard.   "...but it's not because I don't like you anymore.  It's because I like you too much, and don't want to be close to someone when I know we would never be able to stay together.  ...And I think my reason is better."

The truth is, I liked his reason better too.

The good news is, after time softened our wounds, we were able to get past the hurt feelings and remain good friends.  Cody was such a gentleman, he not only followed through with our plan to go to the prom together (which had been scheduled prior to our breakup), he even swallowed his pride and wore a white tuxedo with tails--against his fashion preferences--because I thought it would match my peach and white lace dress the best.  We had a good time there and I treasure that fancy schmancy photo of us together in front of the prom's elegant decorative backdrop.

Cody was my last non-Mormon boyfriend.  I will be forever grateful that I was able to experience this turning point in my romantic companionships with such a loving and forgiving person as Cody. 

The Falling Part: A Turning Point...Part I

Journal Entry, 27 January 1991:
     I did a nauty (naughty?) thing today, I left church for a few minutes.  I called Corrie at work from the hall phone just to say "hi," in between classes, and she asked me to do her a favor.  She asked me to go to her boyfriend Kenny's house (right by the church, the next street over) and bring her some jeans.  Church wasn't over yet, but I did.  I went over there but no one was home so I drove over to her work (just down the other street) and got the key to Kenny's house, went back and got the jeans, and took them back to her.  I couldn't believe it, but just as I was pulling out of there, my car died!  I was in sheer panic by now (because Mom and Dad didn't know I had sneaked out) so I went back in to Corrie's work to get some help.  Cody Regan (a guy I know from school) and one of his friends pushed my car and it started for me.  I went right back to church.  Whew--Mom and Dad don't know. 

The freedom of driving gave a teenager such as myself ample opportunities to learn responsibility.  For the most part, Mom and Dad didn't worry about me with all of my coming and going, because I complied with my evening curfews, and kept them in the know of where and with whom I spent my time.  They trusted me, and I was a good kid.  Sneaking out of church that day and the feelings of fear and horror that ensued by nearly getting caught reminded me that a life of crime and dishonesty didn't appeal to me.

The one benefit that came out of my misdemeanor was the igniting of sparks between this damsel in distress and her rescuer, Cody.  We began to notice each other more and more at school, and I enjoyed running into him almost every time I went to visit Corrie at work, at "Boyce's," where Cody would play pool regularly.  With Boyce's being advantageously situated on my route to church, I could easily judge when it was time for me to stop there for a visit based on whether or not his car was there.

Whether it was during our lunch hour, right before or after school, at the basketball games, or at the pool hall, soon Cody and I were spending time together every day.  Friends supplied the additional necessary confirmations that he "liked" me.  I went back and forth a little bit trying to decide if it was him I liked, or just the comfortable male companionship that he provided.  Still, he was genuine and gentlemanly, we laughed a lot together, and I found him modestly attractive.  I felt complete and happy when I was around him.

After a couple weeks of constantly seeking one another's company, Cody craved clarification on our relationship.

Journal Entry, 23 February 1991:
     What can I say--Cody and I are going out as of tonight.  I had so much fun with him tonight.  He came and heard me sing with some of the jazz choir members at a cancer benefit at the Eagles' Club.  After that I went and played pool with him, that was fun.  When we left there we went to the church dance together 'till 10:30, then I took him back to Boyce's.  There he asked me, "Are we seeing each other?"  I nodded yes, and smiled.  And then he asked, "Are we going out?"  I shrugged my shoulders and he said, "Do you want to go out with me?"  I smiled and nodded again.  He gave me a hug--THE END.

Kisses with Cody were very sweet.  They started out on my cheek one day, and with time they eventually worked their way to my lips.  (This gradual process took about a week.)  Kissing was not a big part of our relationship by any means (they were always just for a moment--short and sweet) but it was definitely an endearing part.  Usually.

Journal Entry, 6 March 1991:
     Cody kissed me as we separated for our classes (just on the cheek this time) before school--and I didn't like it.  Partly because there were so many people around--and does he have to kiss me every time we part?  I was kind of snobby to him for the rest of the day until after school and I told him why.  He said, "So that's why!  I'll never do that again."  Then he came and visited me at work [in the day care area of the community gym] for a few minutes and he asked me if he could kiss me in front of the kids--I said no.  He was disappointed but I was happier.  

Cody's father and step-mother, and his grandmother who also lived with them, were friendly and kind, and I enjoyed spending time with them in his home.  My family did not see a whole lot of Cody, but I remember my older brother Bryan expressed his approval after Cody joined us and our friends for games one night.  It meant a lot to me that my family approved of my boyfriends.

My parents were not as easy to please as my brother, apparently.  I wonder if it was by their request that I did invite Cody to join us at church on a few occasions, which he did (he was not a Mormon).  Of course I was grateful that Cody would accept that invitation and share in that most important part of my life, even if it was just to be with me, but that wasn't good enough for Mom and Dad.  Pretty soon, they started bringing their uneasiness to my attention.

"I'm feeling worried about you, because none of your boyfriends lately have been members of the church," Dad approached me with genuine concern.  

"Well just so you know, Dad, I'd marry Scott in a second," I tried to reassure him, even though I didn't assume that was an actual possibility.  "I am planning to marry a Mormon, you know." (Leave it up to a young Mormon girl to have clear intentions for her future marriage at age sixteen...or maybe that was just me.)

"You marry whom you date," he announced, with conviction.  "You marry whom you date."

My conversation with Dad that morning, coupled with my just having finished reading a Jack Weyland novel (a popular author of Mormon fiction), got me pondering the high standards I had for myself and how much the church meant to me.  Mild feelings of guilt gnawed at my mind for remaining Cody's girlfriend, since I knew that I did not see us together long-term.  The thought of distancing myself from him for that reason didn't thrill me, but I spent some time considering that choice.

After spending an evening at an activity with exclusively friends from the church, I made a decision.  Breaking up with Cody was the right thing to do.   So I spoke with Cody.  I explained that I needed to end our relationship because more than anything, I wanted to keep my faith as my priority, and to me that meant dating only within the membership of my church.  I assured him that there was no one else I was interested in, but I felt this was a change I needed to make.

Cody was unbelievably gracious and understanding.  He let me go with no hard feelings, and simple hopes for a continued friendship.  He was amazing, despite his discouragement.

I felt good about the break up...for less than a day.

to be continued...