I have never actually believed in love at first sight save for how I have felt when my daughters and my grandchildren were born. Dating Mike was nonetheless a love story from the beginning. At first it was exciting to be with a kindred spirit who seemed to understand me so well. As time went by I became more and more convinced that I really had met the very special person with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. 

I was only eighteen years old and fully aware of the fact that my life experiences were so limited that I should not let my heart run away with my head. When Mike first told me that he loved me I was thrilled, but wondered if both of us were getting carried away too quickly. My response to him was a no doubt humiliating, “Thank you!” For someone with a general facility with words I might have been more encouraging, but I simply chose not to commit to any emotion while I tried to discern what I was actually feeling. The truth was that I thought I loved him as well, but as I had so often realized, I was an old soul with a cautious spirit. Somehow the fact that I had been bowled over by Mike in a very short time confused me. I had imagined first earning a college degree, working for a time at a job, and only then finding the love of my life, but there I was becoming more and more certain that somehow Mike and I were meant to be together. 

I was still attempting to reconcile myself with a college major that made me excited. While I continued with my studies Mike and I spent more and more time together. He had transferred to the University of Houston where he was majoring in Sociology and already impressing his professors. Now and again he would take me to “invitation only” discussions with class members and professors. They were always incredibly interesting and I felt so proud to be part of such intellectual soirees. 

We often had fun double dating with my cousin Ingrid and her new found beau, John. We also spent more and more time with Alan and Susan who had married. I loved witnessing married life with them where we played cards and enjoyed Susan’s cooking. It was like peeking at a future with Mike even though he had not yet suggested that our relationship was heading for total commitment. 

Meanwhile Mama was spending more and more time with the man that she had once insisted she disliked. Somehow he wormed his way into her life by appealing constantly to her good nature. She seemed to be struggling to free herself of him, but he always managed to find a reason that kept her willing to see him one more time. His manipulation of her feelings irked me so much that I made every possible effort to avoid him. I did not want to hear his ugly political rants or see my mother losing the confidence that had always seemed to define her.

My brother Michael had transferred from Mt. Carmel High School to Jones High School after convincing our mother that the science and mathematics programs were better there. He immediately enjoyed the new challenges and the expertise of his teachers. At one point he created a contraption out of balsa wood that resembled a Rube Goldberg machine. It consisted of shoots through which marbles would rush to calculate the answer to a mathematics problem. He called it a computer. At the Houston Science Fair he won first prize in the mathematics division and then went all the way to top honors overall. It was apparent to all of us that he was really going to fulfill his childhood dream of becoming a mathematician and maybe even getting a human to the moon. 

Pat was now in junior high at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. He played baseball and ran like a gazelle. He was artistic and gifted at telling a good story and had a knack for writing down his tales. He had a kind of charisma that made people joyful. Friends were drawn to him and many of their fathers filled in as role models and coaches for him. He seemed to be perennially happy, someone who fully embraced life and it’s best moments. 

One day Pat was playing football in a neighbor’s front yard. The weather was warm and nobody was wearing shoes. The grass in the yard was a bit high and in need of mowing, but that did not stop the boys from having a good time. Suddenly Pat was down on the ground writhing even though nobody had tackled him. Unbeknownst to anyone a broken beer bottle that someone had thrown from a car lay hidden and waiting for someone to make a misstep. The jagged glass had cut Pat’s Achilles tendon and he was bleeding profusely. His friends ran to our house shouting that Pat needed help quickly. When they described what had happened Mama instructed me to grab towels meet her at the car. We both jumped in quickly and she headed for the scene where Pat lay in the now bloodstained grass.

She jumped from the car and wrapped a towel around the wound applying enough pressure to stop the flow of blood. With a bit of help she carried Pat to the car and instructed me sit next to him on the front seat so that I might continue to keep pressure on his wound while she drove. She raced to our family doctor’s office where I ran inside to get help. Dr. Jorns and his nurse immediately followed me to the car. Within minutes he was stitching the tendon together and then closing the wound. He remarked with awe that Mama had done everything properly in getting him Pat the office. He was certain that Pat might have bled out had Mama not understood what she needed to do. 

That was my mother. Her level head and her knowledge of how to do things was uncanny. She had saved Pat and once again I was in total awe of her. Pat himself became a kind of folk hero in the neighborhood and his friends came around to keep him entertained while he was still unable to walk. I realized how relieved I was that my little brother was going to be okay. Somehow I would never be able to imagine a world without him. It frightened me to even think about Dr. Jorns’ words that Pat might not have made it without Mama’s quick thinking. The enormity of the event also helped me realize how much I had come to love Mike. I could not imagine life without him either. Moving forward he would be family in my mind as well.