Watch out for the crack in the sidewalk

At 3:00 p.m. Oct. 18, 1975, 46 years ago today, I leapt into the rest of my life. I clearly remember the excitement of taking those first steps down the aisle, holding onto my fathers arm, and joyfully walking into the arms of the boy/man to whom I have now been married for 46 years and experienced 50 years of being in love and in like. We were only 19, but we were old souls — kindred spirits. All these years later, in his arms and by his side is still my favorite place to be. In honor of this milestone year, I’m sharing my “how I fell in love” story below. #therestofmylife?

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“Watch out for the crack in the sidewalk.”

I didn’t know it in that moment, but that was the beginning of my falling in love with him. At first, I wasn’t sure what he had just said, and responded, “What?”

His words hadn’t quite registered. I was keenly distracted by the hand he had placed on my shoulder, and his arm around my waist pulling me towards him. My heart was beating fast and loud, muffling his words. He repeated, “Watch out for the crack in the sidewalk,” as he guided me around the potential danger.?

We were only 15 years old. I was the new girl in school. He was the most popular boy on campus, the sports star, the one all the girls swooned over and all the guys wanted to be. He was somehow universally liked by all the clicks — the jocks, the geeks, the hippies, the cheerleaders, the punks, the preps, the nerds — everyone. I had observed him being kind to everybody. No matter who he spoke to, he took interest in what they were saying and treated them like a friend. I had noted he never spoke ill of his parents. Remarkably, he never cussed. I liked that so much about him. And if I’m totally honest, I was very much aware he was the absolutely most handsome boy I had ever met, though his 6’1” muscular frame and athletic build made him much more than a boy, and that terrified me a bit. Seriously. He was beautiful!

I had never had a boyfriend before. Rumor had it he’d had a few girlfriends, and a recent break-up was all the talk. I had just moved to Florida from Kansas during the Christmas break. I had seen him walking in the halls, often in uniform for one of the sports he played. He was always accompanied by some entourage. I observed how everyone would greet him as he passed, and he would always respond with a smile and a warm rejoinder.?

My first time talking to him was also the first time home room was called in my new school. I was still trying to adjust to all the strange new protocols. We were summoned to home room to pick up our report cards. My last name being Martinez and his last name being Lowery meant fate threw us together. He walked in a bit after the bell had rung, in his baseball uniform, and straight to me and said, “I didn’t know you were in this home room. Hello, my name is Darrell. What’s your name?” I couldn’t breath. I glanced to my sides to make sure he was speaking to me before mumbling, “Hi, I’m Betty.”?

“It’s great to meet you!” he said, before taking his report card and leaving. I was still standing there trying to catch my breath. What confidence he exuded, mingled with a kindness that was mesmerizing.?

The next day at lunchtime, standing with a group of girls outside the cafeteria, he walked up to us. Suddenly, it seemed like all sense was knocked out of the girls with whom just seconds before I had been having a perfectly normal conversation. They began to preen and giggle and engage in all sorts of crazy antics to outdo each other and attract his attention. I felt so uncomfortable I walked away. I noticed his quizzical expression as he watched me leave.?

The next morning, when I got to my locker at school, he was already there, waiting for me, a single rose in his hand.?

That was the beginning of our “courtship” if you can call two 15-year-olds getting to know each other a courtship.?

But, it was that broken sidewalk that made me truly fall in love with him. In that moment, I knew I was safe with him. And I was right. 46 years of marriage later, 4 children, 7 grandchildren, 2 great-grands, and 50 years from that first time he touched my shoulder and pulled me close, he still makes me feel safe.?

It all really happened because of a crack in the sidewalk. Those tiny embers of like and attraction were surprisingly fanned into love by some deferred maintenance.?

Cupid, you rascal!