*Surprise
Circles Three
mixed media collage by Emelia Van Nest Markovich
Surprise
Day 18 — February 27
“Do you know anyone I should meet?”
How many times must I have said that to Judy and Page Schrock as I turned 27 in 1989. Imagine how hard it was for a shy person like me in Wadsworth, Ohio, to meet potential dates in the days before dating apps. All I could do is rely on networking.
When Judy suggested to Elizabeth that she should meet me, Elizabeth replied, “I’m much too vulgar to date a pastor!”
She really wasn’t vulgar at all, but on a list of potential partner vocations, a pastor would have been very low on her list. She had a traditional Methodist upbringing in Warren, Ohio, but all-church-all-the-time wasn’t her idea of a great life. I refer you to Post #1 in this series for the story of our first lunch.
Leaping ahead seven months, whenever I would tiptoe into the realm of questions about our future together, Elizabeth wasn’t very receptive to the conversation. I assumed that she just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of being a pastor’s wife.
In April of 1990, my seminary friends and I planned a trip to Florida—a two-year graduation reunion of sorts. I was at a mall with Cathy Schibler, and I remember saying to her, “I don’t know if Elizabeth is really into the idea or not, but I have no idea how much rings even cost. Let’s go take a look.” The idea of marriage was intriguing to me, at least.
I returned home and Elizabeth picked me up at the airport. “How sweet of her to bring some flowers,” I thought.
When we arrived at her duplex, she did the oddest thing. She blindfolded me before saying something perplexing about “embracing her contrasexual opposite” and leading me inside.
She removed the blindfold, and I reeled backwards against the door in disbelief. What I saw was the most surprising, flabbergasting, confounding thing I had ever, ever seen. I was truly speechless.
She had hung an eight-foot burgundy and white sign with these affirming and joyful words: WILL YOU MARRY ME, KENT?
I blinked.
I paused maybe all of four seconds trying to comprehend that I was at a juncture—a “Y” in the road—confronted with a decision that would change everything.
Every. Thing.
And I replied with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
The actual eight-foot sign that Elizabeth had professionally made to hang in her duplex on April 27, 1990.
Day 18: the art of love and loss
view all posts at kentmueller.com
February 10, 2020, was the day my wife, Elizabeth Izant, entered the hospital. She and I were on a hopeful journey following her heart transplant five months prior. On March 1, she entered hospice and died March 11. This series is not about her medical journey. This is about sharing stories and reflections about our life together. In our 29 years of marriage, we collected a piece of art or two each year, often in celebration of our marriage anniversary. Each day from February 10 to March 11, I will be sharing an image of that art. And a story.