An Old-Fashioned Love Story
In conjunction with our visit with the Browns, my column in the Southwest Times Record in Fort Smith was the entrée to an evening speaking opportunity in their church, Oak Cliff Baptist Church. Until church time arrived, we spent the afternoon catching up on family news. Conversation shifted to their son Patrick, age 22, and his possible career paths for the future.
Foy and I both confessed that our own careers had taken some unexpected turns away from our youthful intentions--and then the love story suddenly spilled out.
It seems that during college Foy was in the Air Force Advanced R.O.T.C. program. This was supposed to culminate in a commission in the Air Force upon graduation, and he would be a pilot. All was on track, and he was content with his plans.
During his last year, however, the dream became a nightmare. The powers that be summarily informed him of a new wrinkle that would make continuance into officer training impossible. Hay fever was cited as the boogeyman, and this was strange news indeed. The hay fever issue had been discussed numerous times already with the same, consistent conclusion: no problem.
Eventually the real truth surfaced. Congress had not funded enough positions, and two potential officer candidates would have to be cut. Hay fever then became the sword that severed splendid plans.
Certainly there was great disappointment. Now he would have to default to his industrial engineering degree, which wasn't his preference. But what choice was there?
As the fortunes of various companies who hired him rose and fell over the succeeding years, he was often compelled to make moves that seemed neither convenient nor timely. He did what was best for his family.
Most of us would logically conclude that life had played a cruel trick with a raw deal as the prize. After all, commitments had been reneged upon, denying him the perceived stability of an Air Force career.
With tears in his voice, Foy went straight to the heart of this admittedly oft-pondered outcome. "Had I been off flying somewhere instead of roaming a factory in Fort Smith, I would never have had the opportunity to meet Judy." And Judy's faithful and supportive companionship through sickness and health and feast and famine over their 40-year marriage is far more important to him today than a career that never materialized.
A proverb tells us that a good wife is a gift from God, and the unexpected twist in Foy's chosen path led him to a priceless jewel to have and to hold for life.
To joyfully treasure a stable, loving relationship above the shifting sands of career and position is old-fashioned love indeed.
Copyright 2001 James McAlister
Comments
Post a Comment