My wife...the other perfect person in my life

In an earlier blog, I told you about my Mom. She was the first 'perfect' person in my life. I use the word perfect to describe a person in whom I never -- ever-- saw a flaw! Most people in this world are flawed like I am (but probably not to the degree that I am flawed), but I never saw a flaw in my Mom. Not once. I never heard her say anything unkind -- never saw her lose her temper -- never heard her gossip about anyone. She spent her entire life quietly going about, doing the right thing. Read my blog about her. She was a remarkable woman in every way.

My wife, Paula is the only other person in whom I have never found a flaw. Paula is 8 years younger than I am. We've been married for 36 years. She has put up with a lot of flaws in me, but I've never had to deal with any shortcomings in her life.

When I first noticed Paula--on the Oklahoma Christian College (now University) in OKC, OK, I was smitten! I told my best friend, Phil Johnson that I 'had to have that girl.' I had dated dozens and dozens of sweet, beautiful young Christian women while at OCC, and while they were all very nice, this young woman stood out. The first thing I noticed that she was sort of a Pied Piper. She befriended a number of guys and girls who did not seem to have a lot of friends. I liked that. Her experience at OCC was not 'all about her.' She never cared about being in any 'elite' group. She didn't really care for any of that. She just wanted to be a good, Christian young woman who loved the Lord and cared about, and for, others.
That got my attention. Those qualities were easy to identify.

I noticed her attitude -- always cheerful. Always happy. Always helpful. I found out where she went to church services and I made a point of finding out everything I could about her. I found out everything but her name, as it turned out! One Sunday, after church services at the Wilshire church of Christ, I scanned the picture board and found the beautiful girl I had seen at Oklahoma Christian so many times! She had a young-Julie-Andrews look about her. Sweet-faced, innocent, beautiful! The picture board showed her photo, along with her two sisters and her brother. It appeared that the girl of my dreams was named 'Julie'.

I caught up with her sister (whom I had identified as 'Paula' from the picture board at Wilshire). The picture board, however, had mis-named the girls of George and Joetta Bryan. When I spoke with her sister, (mis-named by the picture board as Paula), I called her by the wrong name. She turned to me (an old man in her eyes, I'm sure-- since I was 27), and frowned. Then she said: "My name's NOT Paula, and who ARE you anyway?" Talk about getting off on the wrong foot! I later found out that Julie didn't mean anything about her brusque treatment of me...that was just something in her nature back then! ha.

I went back inside and was able, with some help from a church member, to sort out the names correctly. With the correct information, I went back to campus and the next day, went to the Campus Life Office. I found out her full name, where she lived, and her class schedule....stuff that, were I to do this today, would no doubt land me in jail!...privacy and all that stuff would get in the way now, I'm sure.

Then I began to 'accidentally' walk past the doors to her classes when classes were dismissed, where I would often run into her. Then I began 'accidentally' to appear behind her in the cafeteria line. Soon I worked up the nerve to speak with her, and before long, had asked her out on a date. Since I was older, and wore a suit and carried a briefcase on campus (and was already balding), she was a little bit intimidated, often answering a question of mine with "yes, sir"...or "no, sir." For a while, I thought: "I'm not getting anywhere fast with this girl. Maybe this is has been a mistake."

For the first date with Paula, I decided to see a little bit of what she was about. I drove a nice car back then and dressed better than I do now (I had more disposable money then than now!). I was in the habit of taking dates to nice places. One of my favorites was a place called Glen's Hickry Inn, in OKC. White tablecloth dining, with candles, nice music, and a lot of ambiance! I didn't want Paula to want to go out with me just for the nice meals, movies, etc. I wanted to see a little bit of how she was made up, so, on our first date, I drove north into Edmond and pulled in to a parking spot directly in front of the Wide-Awake Cafe --- a greasy spoon that seemed to be open 24/7/365. It was not a tidy place. If one had dropped his wallet on the floor, it might have been a good idea to just leave it -- money, driver's license and all, and start over, rather than pick it up and catch who knows what from the floors! (I'm just kiddding....kind of....sort of).

As I pulled into the parking space in my new '71 burnt sienna colored Monte Carlo, I looked over at Paula to see her reaction. She was smiling and happy, not dejected and embarrassed by my selection of a place for our first date. All right! She passed my test with flying colors! I backed up the car and we drove into the city to Glen's and had a wonderful evening....the first of many.

I told my friend Phil, after our first date: "Hack (his nickname), I'm going to marry that girl." We had a lot of dates over the months to come. A lot of the girls on campus back then wore wigs, and Paula was no exception. On one of our dates, we were sitting in the girls' dorm parking lot and I was about to walk Paula back to the dorm. I leaned over to kiss her (for the first time) and she sort of deflected my kiss, with an evasive maneuver designed to make me believe that her wig was in need of adjustment. After she did this a couple more times, I began to get the message. What a disappointment! I weathered this treatment for awhile and then began to lose interest, since she was dating other guys that I didn't care for. I let her know it one night, and broke up with her. I finally let her know that she needed to decide whether she wanted to date just me, or continue to 'play the field.' We talked a lot and eventually our relationship improved to the point where I asked her to marry me. I went to her parents, not to get their approval, but to ask for their blessing. I got it, although her stern-faced, no-nonsense Dad didn't crack a smile. It was quite a while before he smiled over his daughter's choice for a husband. Her Mom thought I would be just fine, and she let me know it.

We were married in August of 1972. In 1977, Paula gave birth to Gena Marie, and then in January of 1980, to Jeff Bryan. We built a little house (where we still live), just east of the campus. Paula, with her wonderful attitude, love of the Lord and of me and her kids, made the little house a home. We've been through a lot in those years. We've lost a lot of family -- not many of them left now. We've done a lot of living, and have had a lot of life experiences during this time -- most of them wonderful, and some of them downright awful. Through it all, though, this little woman who trusted me to take care of her in 1972, when she looked up at me with such trust and such love, and said "I DO!", has stayed with me through thick and thin. Like my own Mom, Paula has cared for me, and for our kids, and other families, with a love and constancy of devotion I had only previously seen in my Mom. After 36 years, I can honestly say that there is no guile in my lovely bride. I have never seen a chink in her armor...a flaw in that lovely woman who is my wife!
I said this in my blog about my Mom, but I'll say it again here: God must have known I needed a lot of help, because He put two perfect (in my eyes) women in my life.

Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Paula. I love you!