Surviving a Spiritual Mismatch in Marriage

Entering into the MismatchTHE WEATHER WAS CRISP AND CLEAR ON THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS 1966 when my friend Pete and I took the train from our suburban homes into downtown Chicago. We wandered around the Loop for a while, reveling in the bustle of the city, but then came time for me to bring him on a pilgrimage that I took as often as I could. Fighting the wind, we trudged across the Michigan Avenue bridge and stopped in front of the Wrigley Building. There we stood, our hands shoved into our pockets for warmth, as we gazed across the street at the gothic majesty of Tribune Tower. I can''t remember whether I muttered the word aloud or if it merely echoed in my mind: "Someday." Pete was quiet. High school freshmen are entitled to their dreams.We lingered for a few minutes and watched as people flowed in and out of the newspaper office. Were they the reporters whose bylines I studied every morning? Or the editors who dispatched them around the world? Or the printers who manned the gargantuan presses? I let my imagination run wild-until Pete''s patience wore thin.We turned and walked up the Magnificent Mile, browsing through the overpriced and pretentious shops, until we decided to embark on the twenty-minute walk back to the train station. As we passed in front of the Civic Opera House, though, I heard a familiar voice beckon from the crowd. "Hey, Lee, what''re you doing here?" called Clay, another high school student who lived in my neighborhood. I didn''t answer right away. I was too captivated by the girl at his side, holding his hand and wearing his gold engraved ID bracelet. Her brown hair cascaded to her shoulders; her smile was at once coy and confident. "Uh, well, um . . . just hanging around," I managed to say to Clay, though my eyes were riveted on his date. By the time he introduced us to Leslie, I wasn''t thinking much about Clay or Pete or the fact that my hands were getting numb from the cold and I was standing ankle-deep in soot-encrusted snow. I made sure, however, to pay close attention when Clay pronounced Leslie''s name; I knew I''d need the proper spelling to look it up in the phone book. After all, everything''s fair in love and war.From Fairytale to NightmareAs for Leslie, I found out later that she wasn''t thinking about Clay as the two of them rode the train home that afternoon. When she arrived at her house in suburban Palatine, she strolled into the kitchen and found her mother, a Scottish war bride, busily preparing dinner."Mom," she announced, "today I met the boy I''m going to marry!"The response wasn''t what she expected. Her mother barely looked up from the pot she was stirring. In a voice mixed with condescension and skepticism, she replied dismissively: "That''s nice, dear."But there was no doubt in Leslie''s mind. Nor in mine. When I called her the next night from a pay-phone outside a gas station near my house (with four brothers and sisters, that was the only way I could get some privacy), we talked as if we had known each other for years. People like to debate whether there''s such a thing as love at first sight; for us, the issue had been settled once and for all. Leslie and I dated almost continuously throughout high school, and when I went off to study journalism at the University of Missouri, she moved there so we could be close to each other. We got married when I was twenty and she was nineteen. After I graduated we moved to Chicago, where my lifelong dream of becoming a reporter at the Chicago Tribune was realized. Leslie, meanwhile, began her career at a savings and loan association across the street from my newspaper office.We lived a fairy-tale life. We enjoyed the exhilaration and challenge of climbing the corporate ladder while residing in an exciting, upscale neighborhood. Leslie became pregnant with our first child, a girl we named Alison, and then later gave birth to a son, Kyle. Buoyed by our deep love for each other, our marriage was strong and secure-until someone came between us, threateninStrobel, Lee is the author of 'Surviving a Spiritual Mismatch in Marriage', published 2002 under ISBN 9780310220145 and ISBN 0310220149.