It was the Winter Storm in March of 1993. We got iced-in on a singles retreat with our church. It was the first time I saw him. He had on a red sweatshirt, beat up cowboy boots, and looked good in his faded blue jeans. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him gather his things from a white Ford pick-up. For real? Cowboy boots and Ford truck too? (Pinch me, I'm dreaming.) I fell head over heels when he took my hand and taught me to two-step. I came home from that retreat and told my daddy I had met the man I was going to marry.
Yesterday we celebrated our 17th year as husband and wife. His white Ford truck has gone from a 150 to a 350, but he still has those same ol' beat up cowboy boots..