It is the Friday of finals week at Purdue. The campus is filled with caffeine-driven, sleep-deprived, panicked and anxious students. It is a week I don’t miss, although I do have found memories of one finals week.
Purdue finals week 1993 holds a special place in my memory. And it wasn’t for the stellar grades I received or other academic excellence. Rather, it was the week my future husband and I would officially start dating.
I met my future farmer during Christmas vacation of my freshman year. I had gone to Purdue with a boyfriend from high school, although the relationship didn’t last much past Halloween. I wasn’t looking to get serious with anyone, just make a lot of friends. I often joke that my Dad sent me to Purdue to get my Mrs. degree, to find a farm boy to bring back home to farm with him! A B.S. was a good second degree, but I think my Dad really wanted me to bring home a farmer.
I was very active in Purdue’s Christian Campus House all throughout college. Christmas break of my freshman year included a Campus House sponsored mission trip to Cookson Hills, Oklahoma. Cookson was a place I had visited in high school and someplace I was excited to visit again. And as per God’s plan, my future husband, whom I had yet to meet, was on the trip as well.
A funny thing happened on that trip to Oklahoma. 80 other students went as well, including my future husband. It didn’t take long to notice him. He was tall, blue-eyed with a cute short curly brown mullet of hair!! Heck, it was the early 90’s, mullets were still popular.
I spent the week flirting with my future husband. And when second semester started, we just happened to be in the same Calculus class! We spent a lot of time studying together. Although while I studied him, he actually learned math.
After our Calculus final exam, which I would have to retake my sophomore year, he asked if he could take me to lunch. Then we walked hand-in-hand back to my dorm room. I was waiting for my Grandpa to pick me up, as the semester was now over, so The Future Husband was not allowed to stay. Before he left, he kissed me. I thought I was going to pass out. My Grandpa must have suspected something because the first thing he said when he picked me up was “who’s the boy?” I guess happiness was written all over my face.
My future husband proposed to me 6 months after that calculus exam and we were married a year and a half year later. God put him in my path and after knowing him for 21 years and preparing to celebrate our 19th anniversary this summer, I can still look fondly back on finals week 1993. When I reminded him of this timeline, he said it seems like yesterday. I agree. I still think of us in college. And I’m so happy that I flunked that Calculus class. I gained the love of my life.
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