On our 30th Wedding Anniversary...The story of How it Began...

12/22/90

Today is our 30th Anniversary. But I often tell the story of how I married my brother's best friend...but it's so much more than that...

How it began…

I loved him before I had even met him. While that may sound weird, if you knew of Kent Herbert back in the mid 80’s, you liked him. If you were a girl in the mid 80’s you adored him. The first thing I said to him was on a postcard to my brother while he was away at Woodleaf Camp…an innocent “Tell Kent Hi!” … but his reaction to this was “Who is this girl I’ve never met that is telling me hi?”… I was just Matt’s little sister, and little I was…I was 13, he was 17. I was a soon to be Freshman and he was a soon to be Senior. We met that summer for the first time, the summer of 1984. The first time Matt brought him over to our house on Lily Ave. I had just disastrously cut my bangs…like to the middle of my forehead bad. I was mortified that Matt was bringing Kent over to the house. So there I sat on the hearth with my hand covering my forehead the entire time he was on the couch. I’m sure he thought I was a freak, and there I was head over heels hopelessly in love with a boy I didn’t even know. 

While Matt and Kent became best of friends that year, I became the little sister. That was fine. Kent never knew that I was deeply head over heels in love with him. Pretty much every girl in the school was. I watched from afar as our entire Freshman class crushed on him too. At every dance we had that year I managed to pull Kent away when the DJ played Purple Rain. Kent never noticed this. Why? Purple Rain is a whopping 9 minutes long. NINE MINUTES OF SLOW DANCING…then back to reality of just friends, but for those nine minutes I could dream about what it would be like to be the one that he would hold in his arms all the time. Kent vacationed with us routinely at our house in Sunriver, he was truly another member of our family. I loved having him around. He was kind. When I was sick one trip, he looked in on me. I just always felt this special connection, I just never knew if he felt it too. 

My yearbook inscription for that year from Kent says “thanks for being such a great little sis, Love Ya” with a cute little heart and has his address at Stanford. We stayed great pen pals and friends for the next few years. I still have all these letters. We saw each other when he came home. I sent him home baked cookies in a Folger’s coffee can while he was away. I dated other people, so did he. You know what my Mom said about each boy I dated? “Why can’t you date a nice boy like that Kent Herbert?” 

Spring break of my junior year I was visiting my Dad in Sacramento with my best friend Beth. Kent stopped by on his way home to Eugene. We were at the Mall and I came down an escalator and there he was! (In Kent’s telling of this story he says when he saw me on the escalator he knew he loved me.) We visited for a bit and then he was on his way home. All I knew is that we were great friends. At that point any hope I had that we would ever be anything more was long gone. Kent would always be my big brother’s best friend. He would be my big brother too. He would always be in my life, but never in any other way then a friend. I grew okay with that, it was too hard not to be.

When my brother Matt graduated high school and left for University of California-Irvine he never looked back. That first summer after his first year away he didn’t come home. Around June 10th Kent called our house and asked for Matt. I let him know that Matt wasn’t coming home that summer. He was surprised, maybe a bit sad. They were the best of friends. He was going to miss his basketball buddy. Then he said, “Do you want to go play basketball with me?” 

That evening we played basketball for over an hour. Our friendly game was VERY friendly. It was almost tackle basketball. I wasn’t sure what was going on. Kent was flirting, I was sure of it. He kept grabbing me when he didn’t need to, touching me when he didn’t have to…holding on a little longer than he needed…when he was guarding me from behind he would start tickling me…in my head I wanted it to be true, but how could it. He would always see me as Matt’s little sister. 

The next night, he called to see if I wanted to play basketball again. Then again. Then again. On June 19th he asked me to go see a movie, Revenge of the Nerds at the movie theater in Springfield. Again, I was fairly sure that I was just the substitute Findley, the stand in for Matt. We got there, sat down and about half way through the movie, he grabbed my hand. I blacked out after that. All I knew was that Kent Herbert was holding my hand. I knew nothing else. I don’t know what the movie was about. I don’t know what the weather was like. I don’t know what I was wearing. I know on June 19th Kent held my hand and my life changed. I thought for a moment that maybe it was an accident. (Kent laughs at me now and says “How does one accidentally hold someone's hand?") On the car ride home, he held my hand again. And the only thought in my head was “Kent Herbert is holding my hand.” … I can’t tell you if he kissed me goodnight because all I remember about June 19th is that he held my hand.

From that night on I knew I would marry him. He didn’t know it for a few years. He had big goals and wanted to make his mark on the community. We dated long distance for several years, we wrote letters constantly (I have them all still in a scrapbook Kent gave me years ago) and we talked on Sunday nights when long distance was 10 cents a minute. I would fly down to Stanford to visit him when I could and hang with him and his roommates who welcomed me with open arms. 

Kent walked with me through some of the darkest days of my life before we were married. I knew that he would stick with me during anything after we were married. A boy that will do that is a boy you want by your side. 

He would go on to graduate from Stanford, get his Masters from Lewis and Clark in Teaching and teach for a few years in Canby, OR. Go to medical school in New Mexico, Residency in Olympia, WA, serve in the Air Force in Little Rock, AR and land here in Colorado Springs.

My kids have always said that we’ve set the bar really high on what they should look for in a marriage, I hope so. Don’t settle. It isn’t a fairy tale. We’ve put in the hard work. We will be honest and tell you that The Five Love Languages truly is what makes our marriage work. My love language is Acts of Service and Kent’s is Quality Time. We meet each others needs. Daily. 

Our marriage has brought us 3 amazing children, we’ve also suffered 5 lost pregnancies. He’s been with me through sickness and health, through fat and thin, through rich and poor through busy and frantic, through my depression and my lowest of days. He is my rock. He is my strength. He is my partner. My soul mate and my very best friend. Thirty years. I’m the luckiest girl in the world. He is the Todd to my Margo. I love him and I like him and I can’t wait for 30 more. 

                                                                                    Today.  12/22/20

My reality is not a big fat assumption, it's my life.

I am grateful every day to be married to a man who not only tolerates my imperfections, but by simply being around him, makes me want to be better.

My last blog was about me admiring my husband and the sacrifices he makes and continues to make. How he never wants for anything and is humble. It was about me striving to be humble, like him, and wishing for others (LOTS AND LOTS OF OTHERS...not just one person)...to learn some of the lessons I have learned and continue to learn every single day about sacrifice. If you saw yourself in my words, perhaps the assumption needs to be that our stories may be more alike than they are different.

I received numerous messages both privately and publicly on my last blog reiterating that gratitude for the small things is a wonderful life lesson and many of you shared with me the difficult ways you found it or how you struggle with it. For some of you it's taken bankruptcy, divorce, death of a loved one or losing valued relationships to find gratitude in the little things. A few of you even shared how you still can't find it. I love my friends and the things you all share with me. I was in tears reading some of your messages, tears of joy and sorrow, your words of both triumph and struggle humbled me and reminded me that we are all more alike than different. BUT...it is the one private message I got, the one where the sender thought I was judging someone else's life, (and being a bit angry about it) that sat with me. Blame is a game that nobody wins. If you read my words and think of yourself or someone you know, and feel angry, maybe it's time for self-examination rather than pointing a finger with the thoughts that I am judging you. Who am I to judge, for our actions will all be judged one day by a much more important person than yours truly.

So, for those of you that shared your own struggles on learning how to be grateful or those of you not satisfied with a mini-version of why I adore my husbands ability to be humble in a world that strives for material wealth, here is the long version. I am grateful, today more than any other, for my family and the journey that has brought me to right now. This is my story, my journey, my lessons, my choices, my mistakes

DISCLAIMER...any similarity between my life and your own are purely coincidental...my life is interesting, dysfunctional, selfish, and crazy enough...I don't need to borrow from yours! ;-) (Yes, I'm talking to you...and you over there...and you hiding behind your monitor...and you on your laptop on the couch...)

CARS

Three times in my life, my car has needed minor repairs and rather than fixing it, I bought a new car. The first time, I was 18. I'd had a pretty traumatic experience at the private university I started the school year off at and was really feeling down. Self-esteem from a car? You bet. I was 18, a freshman at University of Oregon, working 2 jobs, living at home with my mom. My car needed a $179 part, a tube of some sort that I had previously taped with duct tape. It was making the most horrific squealing sound that could be heard miles away when I drove. My mechanic said my car was in great shape, if not for that hole in that tube, he said to fix it, the car would last another few years. I traded in my 1979 Ford Mustang the very next day for a super sporty little car, a 1988 Honda CRX. I didn't care what HE said...a $179 repair or a $125/month car payment (for 3 years...) it was a no-brainer...give me the car payment! I sure did look cute pulling up to campus in that little car. Over the course of the next 3 years, that super sporty CRX that my mechanic told me not to buy, was an endless money pit. I put a new engine in it and less than a year later, a clutch, then a transmission, then...when the brakes started squealing, I traded it in the very next day. The car was paid for, practically rebuilt, but I wanted a new car. I convinced Kent that we shouldn't sink more money into it (not even a $89 brake job at Midas) and we bought a brand new Toyota Tercel. A little car, but just right for our little family. So, we traded in my squeaky-braked CRX for a shiny new bright red Tercel with a car payment we had no business taking on living off of Kent's teacher's salary and having two small kids at home. The final time I opted for a new car over a repair job, was in 1994. My mini-van had been so reliable, but was showing it's age. When the air conditioning went out, I traded it in the next day. No car payment (but no air-conditioning) to a car payment in 24 hours. Yeah me.

EATING OUT

Back in the day (okay, so maybe 2 years ago)...but before the recession, before I knew what a budget was, before I learned a lot of the life lessons that I now follow like a second religion...I can confess that we spent on average $500 a month eating out. (You may politely gasp here.) We went out to lunch every Wednesday and Friday and had date night once a week. We ate out as a family at least once a week, and often at places that would mean a $100 check. We'd go to The Melting Pot frequently and not think twice about a $200 dinner (who doesn't love a chocolate martini or 2?). We ate lunch at PF Chang's about twice a month, and it always included my favorite food in the world, lettuce wraps: appetizers, lunch, a glass of wine, no problem. A $75 lunch was fine by me. We once spent $300 in one month just at our favorite Sushi place. Really. (You may gasp again here, and this time shake your head in disgust.)

CELL PHONES

The latest, the greatest, big plans, nice phones, big monthly bills. I have a vivid memory of my oldest daughter telling me they did something in her Character and Ethics class in 9th grade where the kids had to hold their phones out and then the class essentially put the kids in some sort of order, based solely on their phones. How relieved was I that she had the newest, coolest phone at the time, (a bright pink RAZR). For that was a status symbol, and I was so glad she was at the top of the proverbial food chain. Happiness from a cell phone...yep.

VACATIONS

Disney World twice in the same year, Vegas weekends twice a year, long weekends at a $250/night bed and breakfast several times a year. We worked hard all year, we deserved it. Did it really matter if most of it was put on our credit card?

My Dirty Little Secret

For 2 years I treated myself to beautiful solar nails at my favorite little salon. Every two weeks, nice new nails, and every 4 a wonderful pedicure. Starbucks? Every single day. Sometimes twice.

PROMISES

When Kent married me, he also married my 12 store charge cards and the $8,000 debt that came with it. When we got back from our honeymoon and I had a collection's call for a late payment for my Learner's card, I made a promise to him that day to never open a store charge account again. I've kept that promise for 20 years. Giving up designer labels, nice shoes, etc...that was easy, for all I have to do is think of my husband and the promise I made him. When a cashier says "Do you want to save an extra 10% today by opening a charge account"...I smile to myself and say no. My clothes are old, my wardrobe is small and if I got invited to a wedding, I'd have nothing to wear. And that, well, that is actually something for me to smile about. This is one thing I am actually quite proud of, if only I could have taken this lesson into all the areas of my life...

REALITY

My life may read like yours. Perhaps you see yourself in my stories, but they are mine. I've gotten happiness from cars, from phones, from shopping, from vacations that I can't even really remember taking. I've spent money I didn't have, made bad decisions and tried to keep up with "The Jones'". I am a material girl at heart, sorry mom, but it's true...I grew up that way. Am I that way now, no. And can I just say I owe that to a humble man named Kent.

CHOICES

I have a choice when I wake up, I have choice with every thing I do. I choose to put someone else first ahead of myself. Do I want to be a stay-at-home mom again, yes. Do I want a nice new car, yes. Do I want nice clothes, yes. Do I want manicures and pedicures, yes. Do I want nice vacations, yes. Do I want to go shopping and buy nice things and drink Starbucks, yes. But I want my daughter to go to college more. I want my son to play the cello more. I want my daughter to concentrate on her grades, volunteer and do school plays instead of work at Wendy's more. I want those things for my kids more than I could ever want or need anything for myself.

REALITY CHECK...

My reality check came in May 2010 with our first tuition bill for our daughter. We've always told her, work hard and your dreams will come true. Work hard and you can go to any school you want to, we will make it happen. I promised, we promised, that all her hard work, all those sacrifices made by her would have it's reward. When I looked at our spending and looked at our income and looked at the tuition bill...it hit me. I realized, that I would not deny my daughter her future because I am selfish. The money we needed, it was there, but it was being wasted on things that were not important. They seemed important at the time, but were so insignificant in the grander scheme of my life. I've never been a big picture kind of person, I've been a NOW kind of person. Shit. As Dr. Phil would say..."How's that workin' for ya?" ...um, not too great!

My kids...they are my reality. My selfish needs...who am I kidding, let's get real they aren't needs...my selfish wants had to go.

How do you take 40 years of habits and change overnight? Look into your child's eyes for just the briefest of seconds and if you don't decide their needs are greater than your wants, well, I just can't even imagine how you'd call yourself a parent. All I had to do was see the excitement in my daughter's eyes over her college acceptance letter and my life changed. That instant.

PROGRESS

The "kids car" is a 9 year old paid-off Volvo, which they must share with dad every Wednesday when he moonlights across town or occasional weekends when he is at an ER out-of-town because his previously mentioned (see my last blog) 22 year old truck overheats and smokes if you go more than a mile. This scratched and dinged Volvo isn't the prettiest thing on the road: it has a bumper barely hanging on for it's life and is missing the gas cap and for the past 2 years a crack all the way across the windshield (fixed a few weeks ago). When it needed a new brake job last month and our mechanic said it would be $300 (and the little material girl inside me wanted to go buy a new car), we fixed it instead. I'd say that is progress.

The Humble Doctor

My husband drives a 1988 truck or rides a bike, his last vacation was 4 days in Kansas and Nebraska and he has only owned 2 cell phones in the last 6 years (and only took the 2nd one because he had a free upgrade)... He may be a doctor, but he is humble.

We helped a friend out today, and gave their family free flu shots in our clinic. They are a great family, both work so hard, sacrifice, and most importantly always put family first. When I grow up, I want to be just like them. They are good friends. They never ask for anything, but we saw a way to help them today, so we did. That's what friends do. Friends help each other in anyway we can. It was easy for us to do it, and they appreciated it. Sigh. Life is good. It feels good to help good people.

I believe in Karma. I believe in paying it forward. I believe that you get right back out of this life what you put into it.

Every single day we have a choice. We can choose to take an exotic vacation or pay our daughter's tuition. We can choose to spend $300 to fix the brakes in our car, or $30,000 to just buy a new one. We can choose to eat out at PF Chang's or stay home and cook. Life is about choices. We can choose to do what is easy, or what is right. And what is right is sometimes really really hard.

I know a few people who, perhaps, need to take a life lesson from the good and humble doctor. Perhaps being humble and grateful and being a true friend, that is much more important that the phone you have or the car you drive. Perhaps rather than feeling entitled to something better or feel sorry for yourself because you don't have something, you should try his approach. Be grateful for things like family, home and time. For the most important things in life aren't things.

Happy Birthday to Me!

This is the last 40 minutes of my 30's.

I swore 10 years ago I'd make some big changes in my life.

Here I sit realizing that another 10 years has gone by and I'm still fat, still a lousy housekeeper, and still a headstrong, opinionated bitch...but...I'm also still married to my high school sweetheart, have successful and happy kids, and still try really hard to always put my family first above all things material or otherwise.

The biggest lesson I've learned this past decade is that I can and will make personal sacrifices for the happiness and success of my children and our family as a whole. I'll have "me" time again...someday way down the road...right now, it's about our family and our kids. I can sacrifice and I'm pretty dang proud of myself for that. I see parents on a daily basis who seem to forget the world stopped revolving around them the second they found out they were pregnant. It makes me profoundly sad to witness such selfishness. I would give up the world for my kids.

I don't need new diamonds, new cars, new anything to help me see clearly that I am truly blessed with the life we have made for ourselves through sacrifice, determination, commitment, education, positive attitude and sheer dumb luck that some things just fell in to place as we had hoped.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Matthew asks every year...all I can answer is time. For I will be married to my husband for 40+ more years...I need more time with my kids, my family as a whole. 18 years blinked by and suddenly Taylor is 1200 miles away at college. I wanted more time.

I know that the next 40 years are going to just keep getting better. Family is, after all, what this life is about.

I need to value what I have today, live for today, and be grateful that I get to have a tomorrow. My goals for the next decade won't be "fit in my size 8 Guess jeans from high school" anymore, it will be...play a game with the family at least once a week. Sit at the table for dinner with everyone at least 3 nights a week. Stop and watch when Matthew wants to show me a magic trick or tell me a joke and listen with my eyes. Take a great family vacation at least once very year. Make sure my kids know as they grow that I am their biggest fan, every day. Forever.

This is my birthday swan song...40...here I come!

I am a wife. I am a mom. I am a housekeeepr, a cook, a laundress. I am a picker-upper and put-awayer. I am a disciplinarian. I am the bad-guy. I am the shoulder to cry on. I am a secret-keeper. I apparently have a plate the size of the Pacific Ocean and shoulders as strong as Atlas. I am the one that expects too much. I am far from perfect. I am fat. I am human. I am tired. I am a teacher. I am a paper-pusher. I am a frazzled self-employed "Joe-The-Plumber". I am an administrator. I am overworked. I am underpaid. I am a lot of things, but for the next week and a half...I am on vacation.

Life Moves Pretty Fast...I'm Trying to Keep Up!

2010 is the year for changes. Big Changes. When I say big, I mean big! My oldest daughter, Taylor, leaves for college this week. Mackenzie, she started her Junior year in High School last week and is already talking about Prom and is so busy with activities that she is gone more than she is home. Matthew, he started Middle School today. There are other big changes coming over the coming months and I am learning to embrace the change.

We went to the top of Pikes Peak on Saturday. To enjoy the view, time with our family, time to oooo and ahhhh over the view and to be reminded that we are all tiny specs.

As we drove up there, we talked, we laughed, and occasionally I'd tear up and have to look out the window as I realized, then like no other time, that everything truly is changing. While your family is always your family, your home is always your home, Taylor is moving out, moving 3 states away, starting her own life. Yes, she will come home for breaks and holiday's, but that isn't the same. Our family, as we are this instant, will never be the same. And today, I'm trying to get at peace with it.

I know I'm not the first person in history to have life sneak up on them and watch as her kids are suddenly adults. I forgot to stop blinking, I guess. I wonder how Taylor will remember the last 18 years, and hope I did my job as a mom instilling work ethic, values and a guiding compass...I know I haven't been a perfect mom, but I've done the best I could without an instruction manual, I mean let's be honest, no one every reads the manual anyway!

One of my favorite movie quotes is from the movie "Parenthood"...

[Gil has been complaining about his complicated life; Grandma wanders into the room]
Grandma: You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.
Gil: Oh?
Grandma: Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride!
Gil: What a great story.
Grandma: I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn't like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.

Everything is changing, hold on.