As the New Year (2005) began, Deborah and I began to see each other more and more often. I would drive to Grants Pass 1-2 times a week to go to class at the Foundation with her. I had promised that I would keep attending with her at least once a week; usually on Fridays, so I could stay the night. But I was finding the classes so meaningful - and staying with her so enjoyable - that I was soon going on Wednesday nights as well. The things I was learning from Guy's talks inspired me and also challenged me. I could feel an inner longing that I'd had for a long time to be connected to something higher than myself, and to see things about myself, finally being filled.
We would go out to dinner when I got into town - nothing fancy, because...well...it was Grants Pass! If she got off early from work, we'd go to "Matzukaze" for Japanese food: Vegetable tempura, Inari, and Chicken Katsu. Or after class, we'd go to "Applebee's" for Oriental Chicken rollups and "Perfect Margaritas" (Yum!). We would laugh. We would flirt. We would talk about what we had learned in class. Slowly, we got to know each other and enjoyed being a "couple".But what brought us together the most in the first 2 months of our relationship wasn't class at the Foundation or those dinner dates. It was an "adventure" (at least for me!) that was a true "leap of faith".
Deborah came and stayed the night in Medford at my apartment a couple of times. She said she enjoyed "getting away" - even to my humble abode. But it wasn't too long after her 2nd visit that she announced, "It's time to do some serious cleaning and remodeling here!". 13 years of bachelor life at 2190 Poplar Drive #51 were about to be swept and shook and dusted and shaken! And rightly so because I had to sheepishly admit that my "housecleaning philosophy" was probably best summed up as:
"A bright person can always think of something better to do than housework." ~ Ruby Lou Barnhill
I think Deborah was shocked when I readily agreed! I just knew I was ready for big changes in my dusty little life. I wanted to "sweep out the cobwebs" and start anew in so many different ways. And in answer to that wish, God had brought me my own "personal interior decorator" - in the body and mind of this cute, energetic Italian blonde!
So we began spending each weekend together, working at transforming the dark dungeon of my apartment into a cleaner, lighter place: a home to be proud of, as well as a suitable "retreat" for a pretty woman.
- Deborah scrubbed things and waxed things that had never been touched by me
- I ventured into each of my closets and sifted through boxes that hadn't been touched in a decade and begin discarding years of accumulated flotsam and jetsam. The hardest things to throw away were boxes of files from my coaching days. So many years; so much effort. And so much pain at the end. I needed to let go of it all, and I finally did.
Together we worked to "unclutter" my world and my walls. Down came the dozens of posters and calendars and photos that had lined my walls in neat rows, and filled my apartment with faces I could turn to when lonely. Out went all the Sports Illustrated "Swimsuit Edition" calendars that I tried to say were "art".
And boy did we shop! Deborah had me buying things that I had never bought - or even heard of before: A duvet for my bed; 1st new curtains and towels in 12 years; Artificial flowers and a vase; Sconces, mirrors, even a "breadbox" (fancy!), and so much more.
We spent hour after hour in "Martha Stewart Land", and we had so much fun together! She would get so excited as her VISION of "The New Look" for my place would began to develop. "Oh look, Jonathan!", she'd say... "Wouldn't that look great in your bedroom?!" "This lamp would be PERFECT in your hall!"..."You MUST get some new sheets, Jonathan! Those ones are HORRID!" "Jonathan - this sofa really must go!". And my reply to her was almost always the same: "Yes, Sweetie. You're right!".
We laughed as we shopped, but in retrospect I also think we learned so much about each other. Deborah showed me her imagination and creativity. I was touched by her thoughtfulness: she was always careful not to suggest too "radical" of changes for this cautious "client". I was impressed with her thriftiness - she was (and still is!) a bargain shopper "extraordinaire"! She was patient with me when I balked at a suggestion - and especially when I got grumpy and hungry at the end of an afternoon of house shopping. And I think Deborah learned valuable things about me too: how patient and easy going I was; that I was genuinely open to change and new ideas, and who knows what else (you'd have to ask her!).
We learned how to be A COUPLE in the aisles of "Linens & Things", "Macy's", "Ross", and "Fred Meyers". We laughed together. Worked together. We listened to each other's dreams and plans. We playfully teased and touched each other. Together, we "built a new world" out of my simple studio apartment.
"A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams." ` Author Unknown
The ironic thing was that after all this work, I only lived in my newly redone "bachelor pad" for another 3 months. In May 2005, we decided I'd move in with her in her house in Grants Pass.
Looking back, though, I'm grateful for this time we spent together. I think it was "practice"; a "rehearsal" for a life long bachelor to begin to learn what it means to share his life with a partner, a friend, a lover. I had had roommates before, but I had begun to learn the true joys of sharing a life - and home - with someone I LOVED.
Looking back, though, I'm grateful for this time we spent together. I think it was "practice"; a "rehearsal" for a life long bachelor to begin to learn what it means to share his life with a partner, a friend, a lover. I had had roommates before, but I had begun to learn the true joys of sharing a life - and home - with someone I LOVED.
I had for the first time in my adult life - a home. And I learned that there's only one thing that can transform 4 walls and all within it into something beautiful and inviting. A woman's love.
"Where is home? Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace." ~ Vernon Baker
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| A scene from our front yard - 2005 |
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