by Kathy McKinsey

I’d always dreamed of having a family, and getting married. But by the time I was 26, I’d never dated. At this time, however, I was at peace about not being in a relationship. Then Murray slipped into my life.

When we met, I worked as a secretary at the University of Missouri, and Murray was a student in the Occupational Therapy Department. When he asked me out on our first date, he said, “Since you have a job and I don’t, would you like to buy me dinner?”

We went to a buffet restaurant. Murray was trying to handle my blindness without insulting me. As we started at the beginning of the salad bar, he asked if I wanted him to serve me or to serve myself. I told him I’d appreciate it if he would serve me.

When we got to the table and our steaks arrived, he asked if I’d like him to cut my steak. I said, “No, I can do it.” He said, “Good. Then would you cut mine too?”

We only dated for about two months before we eloped, in the summer of 1987. Murray was taking anatomy and physiology that summer. He would come to have lunch with me at my office and while we ate, he’d describe the part of the cadaver they’d dissected that morning.

My boss told me Murray had a good American-boy look about him. Murray told me he had bright red hair, but people in my office said it was more blond.

One evening as we sat on a wall on campus, Murray hopped down and stopped someone passing by. “Would you tell her what color my hair is?” “Strawberry blond,” she replied.

Murray still claims it’s red.

I was the first to say, “I love you.” I didn’t mean to. It just popped out, and I was so embarrassed. Murray didn’t help much with my embarrassment, although he tried. He said, “I could love you. I might love you.”

Three weeks before we got married, I broke up with Murray while he was out of town. When he got back a week later, he came by to pick up his mail, which I’d been keeping for him. He said, “We’re crazy about each other. Let’s not break up. Let’s get married in a year.”

I said yes. A few days later, he suggested we get married in December. It was August then. Another couple of days, on Sunday, he said, “How about this Saturday?” On Tuesday he said, “Let’s get married tomorrow.”

The earliest judge he could find to marry us was on Thursday, so we were married that day, twelve days from when we’d become engaged.

It was a crazy courtship and engagement, but by the grace of God, and the God-given patience of my husband, we’ve been married 34 years, have five precious children, and are happier now than ever.