I fell in love

after we ran out of matches while camping on a water ski weekend. 

We met on a blind date.  My roommate from college went to lunch with him and he told her,  “I think I’m ready to meet a normal girl”.  I went to dinner with her that same night and told her,  “I think I’m ready to meet a normal guy”.  At the time, she didn’t think we were a match, but she invited us both to a barbeque.  

He walked in, taking up the doorway with his height and broad shoulders. With a bold and confident declaration, and an equally huge smile, he announced “There she is”.  

In milliseconds, the billboard in my mind flashed the phrase, “He could be a keeper.” 

He began to put sour cream in the guacamole.  

I told him he was making it wrong.  

He told me to just wait.  

I licked the bowl.  

We started dating. We stopped seeing other people. We met each other’s families. 

We planned trips with his ski boat.  He bought me a water ski after the match blew out and that said more to me than those three magical words: I Love You.  We met in May and we were engaged that December.  

We went to Lake Havasu for Labor Day Weekend.  We got out there earlier than our friends to set up camp before dark.  They would arrive around midnight after they got off work and made the drive from California. 

As we pulled up to a beach, we realized that the prop to the boat was stuck in the downward position.  That’s good for driving the boat, it is not good for beaching the boat.  In this position the prop would be crashing across the rocks of the shoreline as the water ebbed and flowed with every passing boat. The wind picked up and the water was sent into more waves of motion.  Tom problem-solved protection by putting a plastic milk crate cube box around the propellor.  It would hold until we went to pick up our friends at the loading dock hours later.   

We were hungry.  It had been hours since lunch and we were losing daylight.  We were looking forward to hamburgers and the pasta salad I had pre-made and packed in the cooler.  With the wind blowing, I tried to create a shield so we could get a match burning long enough to light the propane burner. After many unsuccessful attempts, we were down to the last match.  We locked eyes, as Tom held the last match, we had an unspoken exchange that whatever happened in this 50/50 moment we would move forward together.  

The scratch against the striker strip on the side of the box was optimistic. The chemicals on the red tip did their job and the smell of the burn promised a prosperous start.  But as the match was nearing it’s ignition target, the wind whispered, “not tonight”.  There would be no sounds of sizzling meat on the grill.  We laughed uproariously and joked that at least there was pasta salad.  I opened the cooler and the seal of the lid had broken free.  The spices and melted ice were mixing around and flowing in and out of the leaky container.  Although it would fill us up, it was bland and seasonless.  We decided on alcohol for the next course, and while he mixed up dessert, I fell in love.  I could imagine a future where we would get through any problem that ever came our way.  

Later, as we floated in the lake, waiting for our friends, I knew things had shifted in our relationship.  The words and commitments would come later, but I vividly remember the feel of the breeze on my face as I looked up into the star filled sky. With barely a sliver of a moon shining down on the lake, I felt my heart was blazing bright.  

After getting back to camp, and protecting the prop, we got the grill burning and the burgers cooking.  That simple burger, with only cheese and a bun, next to a crackling fire, with my future husband, is still one of the best meals I have ever eaten.  

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Photo by: Elia Mazzaro on Unsplash