How we met...
In Wilber's words...
I met her once upon a time, but I chose her three times.
I chose her the moment I saw her. Not to sound cliché, but I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was my freshman year at Southwest DeKalb High School. I was in the trombone section of one of the best bands in the south (its true, what can I say?) This particular afternoon I was sitting the trombone section in the band room and she walked in wearing a black dress (it could have also been a skirt - all I know is she was wearing it, if you get my drift). I quickly and confidently approached her and introduced myself. She was obviously shy and reserved, but very classy and well put together. I'd learned from watching other women in my life, that a woman's clothes speaks volumes about who she is as a woman. To that extent she was neat, meticulous, and detail-oriented. Her skin was well taken care of, its texture not troubled with acne. Smooth, even. Rich as chocolate mocha. Made from cocoa butter. Simply beautiful.
Her response to my introduction was pleasant and receptive. In the days that followed I found myself growing more and more fond of her with every meeting. A couple of months and started to "go together." And so we went. Together.
Together we went to her house where she introduced me to her family and I learned that we had even more in common. Our family values seemed to align perfectly. It was also good to see how well her mother had preserved her youthfulness, I saw a peek into what I had to look forward to should this last as long as I'd hoped. Thank God!
Managing a growing relationship in high school proved challenging. We made mistakes. A lot of them. Hearts were bruised. Feelings were hurt. Trust was broken. Sophomore year we headed down separate paths.
With no social media in the 90s, we relied heavily on simple cameras to record all of our best moments, our "dopest" fits, and our best friendships. There was a photo studio called Harry's that everyone frequented. If did not have a picture from Harry's, complete with the white columns, you had not lived. And all to return to school and hand out as many as you could, autographing each one with a meaningful message. I remember one autograph in particular. I'd signed the back of the picture I gave to Shaunda with, "you will be my wife." Thinking back to signing that picture today I am moved to tears. Those words weren't just words, they were my prayer. But God.
Years later as a freshman in college, I'd lost all contact with her, though I had not forgotten that 5-word prayer scribbled on the back of that Harry's wallet-sized picture. I was downtown one day and bumped into here sisters Net and Danielle. I immediately asked, "How ya'll sister doing?" I handed them my phone number (which I'm sure must have been a beeper number) and insisted they pass it along. I know now that that was God. He is the light, the truth, and a connector. I'd been given the opportunity to choose her again and I did.
We reunited and things went well, even with the ups and downs. It was during this time I discovered my why. I'd chose her because she was everything that I was not. One day I came over to her house and I remember vividly what she was doing. I walked in and she was writing something in this little book. "What are you doing," I'd asked.
“Balancing my check book,” she replied.
I thought to myself, "Oh my God, she's getting the money right, down to the penny." Now, I knew a little something about money - but mainly how to get it fast and spend it just as quickly. Keeping it and saving it was not my strong point. This was the moment I knew I needed her. I chose her a third time in that moment. Balancing a checkbook at 19 was next level. I can recall leaving only to return with my money and insist that she manage my finances as well. She was my (much better) other half. Not only was she the save to my spend, she was the quiet place to my wild, the finish line to my race. She was the one.
I chose her the moment I saw her. Not to sound cliché, but I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was my freshman year at Southwest DeKalb High School. I was in the trombone section of one of the best bands in the south (its true, what can I say?) This particular afternoon I was sitting the trombone section in the band room and she walked in wearing a black dress (it could have also been a skirt - all I know is she was wearing it, if you get my drift). I quickly and confidently approached her and introduced myself. She was obviously shy and reserved, but very classy and well put together. I'd learned from watching other women in my life, that a woman's clothes speaks volumes about who she is as a woman. To that extent she was neat, meticulous, and detail-oriented. Her skin was well taken care of, its texture not troubled with acne. Smooth, even. Rich as chocolate mocha. Made from cocoa butter. Simply beautiful.
Her response to my introduction was pleasant and receptive. In the days that followed I found myself growing more and more fond of her with every meeting. A couple of months and started to "go together." And so we went. Together.
Together we went to her house where she introduced me to her family and I learned that we had even more in common. Our family values seemed to align perfectly. It was also good to see how well her mother had preserved her youthfulness, I saw a peek into what I had to look forward to should this last as long as I'd hoped. Thank God!
Managing a growing relationship in high school proved challenging. We made mistakes. A lot of them. Hearts were bruised. Feelings were hurt. Trust was broken. Sophomore year we headed down separate paths.
With no social media in the 90s, we relied heavily on simple cameras to record all of our best moments, our "dopest" fits, and our best friendships. There was a photo studio called Harry's that everyone frequented. If did not have a picture from Harry's, complete with the white columns, you had not lived. And all to return to school and hand out as many as you could, autographing each one with a meaningful message. I remember one autograph in particular. I'd signed the back of the picture I gave to Shaunda with, "you will be my wife." Thinking back to signing that picture today I am moved to tears. Those words weren't just words, they were my prayer. But God.
Years later as a freshman in college, I'd lost all contact with her, though I had not forgotten that 5-word prayer scribbled on the back of that Harry's wallet-sized picture. I was downtown one day and bumped into here sisters Net and Danielle. I immediately asked, "How ya'll sister doing?" I handed them my phone number (which I'm sure must have been a beeper number) and insisted they pass it along. I know now that that was God. He is the light, the truth, and a connector. I'd been given the opportunity to choose her again and I did.
We reunited and things went well, even with the ups and downs. It was during this time I discovered my why. I'd chose her because she was everything that I was not. One day I came over to her house and I remember vividly what she was doing. I walked in and she was writing something in this little book. "What are you doing," I'd asked.
“Balancing my check book,” she replied.
I thought to myself, "Oh my God, she's getting the money right, down to the penny." Now, I knew a little something about money - but mainly how to get it fast and spend it just as quickly. Keeping it and saving it was not my strong point. This was the moment I knew I needed her. I chose her a third time in that moment. Balancing a checkbook at 19 was next level. I can recall leaving only to return with my money and insist that she manage my finances as well. She was my (much better) other half. Not only was she the save to my spend, she was the quiet place to my wild, the finish line to my race. She was the one.
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“So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.”
Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook |
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Shaunda's words...
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Initially I chose Wilber based on his looks and his charm. He was fine! Yes, I was wearing that black dress that day in the band room. And I do mean WEARING it. And yeah, I was sure he'd noticed. I'd actually noticed him before. He'd be hanging around he bandroom before class on occasion and of course I'd see him during practices, but we'd never had a conversation. So that day he introduced himself I came face to face with the charm I'd only noticed from a distance.
Wilber stayed fresh, "Polo Fresh" from head to toe to compliment his looks and charm. His skin was smooth and dark clean cut with a athletic build, chest up, shoulders back you know. A true people's person he talked to everyone. When we finally met in the band room his conversation was short and sweet. I don't really remember what he said but I remember the way he made me feel, special, noticed. He left me blushing and waiting for our next conversation. It wasn't long before I was all in.
We went in full speed ahead boyfriend and girlfriend, sharing lockers, skipping class to be in each other's lunch period, candy grams and movie dates. What drew me closer to him was the way he made me feel, special. Proud to be my boyfriend. We always had a really good time. We were friends. Wilber comes from a large close-knit family so there was always a family gathering and everyone knew who I was and treated me accordingly. The love he felt for me carried into how his family treated and respected me as his girlfriend. However, being kids, a teenage love the rollercoaster ride was fun but soon came to a stop.
Who knew that little over a year later we would pick back up where we left off? A little more grown. The relationship this time was "sweep you off your feet" type. The physique had matured. The cologne, the cars, swag, the gifts, the dates everything. We were on and popping before this "Do it for the Gram" era. We been fly lol!!! So much so that my little sister used to steal his Polo and Nautica shirts and wear them to MBK teen club (you gotta be from "Atlanna") to know about MBK. We were always together on the scene from Decatur to Atlanta. Our love once again blossomed so beautiful, so strong, yet we still had so much to learn.
Wilber stayed fresh, "Polo Fresh" from head to toe to compliment his looks and charm. His skin was smooth and dark clean cut with a athletic build, chest up, shoulders back you know. A true people's person he talked to everyone. When we finally met in the band room his conversation was short and sweet. I don't really remember what he said but I remember the way he made me feel, special, noticed. He left me blushing and waiting for our next conversation. It wasn't long before I was all in.
We went in full speed ahead boyfriend and girlfriend, sharing lockers, skipping class to be in each other's lunch period, candy grams and movie dates. What drew me closer to him was the way he made me feel, special. Proud to be my boyfriend. We always had a really good time. We were friends. Wilber comes from a large close-knit family so there was always a family gathering and everyone knew who I was and treated me accordingly. The love he felt for me carried into how his family treated and respected me as his girlfriend. However, being kids, a teenage love the rollercoaster ride was fun but soon came to a stop.
Who knew that little over a year later we would pick back up where we left off? A little more grown. The relationship this time was "sweep you off your feet" type. The physique had matured. The cologne, the cars, swag, the gifts, the dates everything. We were on and popping before this "Do it for the Gram" era. We been fly lol!!! So much so that my little sister used to steal his Polo and Nautica shirts and wear them to MBK teen club (you gotta be from "Atlanna") to know about MBK. We were always together on the scene from Decatur to Atlanta. Our love once again blossomed so beautiful, so strong, yet we still had so much to learn.
Where we are now
We are growing. Every single day and in every way. I continue to learn the strength of God's love in the way we are called to love each other. Our marriage requires that I show up in truth and CONSISTENTLY. It is necessary that we re-commit ourselves to each other every day. Our love is a journey. It is hills and valleys and sunshine and rain and winding roads and way way up and sometimes down to the ground. But it is ours. And we chose this journey together and continue to do so with each waking day.
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“If I get married, I want to be very married.”
― Audrey Hepburn |