Happy Cinco de Mona

It's Mona's birthday today. May 5th. Or, as we lovingly refer to it in our family, Cinco de Mona.

Have I ever told you how we met?

I'd spent the summer of 1972 touring Asia with a singing group. I loved singing for the director of that group so I moved to Whittier, CA, to attend the college where he taught. A buddy of mine and I shared an apartment and I started classes that fall. I remember the first day in the choir room. The buzz was all about this girl Mona. "Is Mona going to be back this year?" and "Has anyone heard from Mona?" and "I hope Mona comes back." I remember thinking, who is this Mona girl? I'd never known anyone named Mona.

On the second day of class she walked into the choir room; I still remember it. She was wearing a yellow dress and from the way everyone rushed to greet her it was pretty obvious she was the Queen Bee. (Is there a law against a pretty redhead girl in a yellow dress? If there isn't, there should be.) I certainly noticed her sitting in the soprano section but we didn't actually meet until the next week when I walked into class and she was surrounded by a group of girls who were all excited. Mona was showing them her engagement ring.

That's right. When Mona and I first met she was engaged to be married.

I remember over the next few months we became casual friends. She began calling me on the phone, asking me about a particular choir matter, alerting me to a change in rehearsal times. Our conversations gradually became longer and more personal and we were becoming better friends. Then, one day in November I walked into class and again saw her surrounded by a group of girls. This time they were consoling her. She'd given the engagement ring back to her fiancé.

I was always certain the girl I was going to marry would be tall and blonde, graceful and athletic, someone who loved sports. She and I were going to raise a family of Olympic athletes. Mona was a redhead and on her tallest day she was maybe 5'2". She loved classical music and opera, didn't know a free throw from a goal post, and well, she was a klutz. But she was making excellent money working full time as a grocery clerk, she had her own apartment and her own car and was completely independent. She smoked Salem cigarettes and drank gin and tonic. I'd never known anyone like her.

I admit I was pretty slow on the uptake. I just never thought that someone so worldly, so sophisticated would be interested in me. She's a year older than I am but at that time I was sure she had to be 24 or 25. But she kept giving me these - signs. It took me awhile before I finally asked her out but subconsciously at least, I knew she was someone special. About two months before our first date she came to my apartment to drop off some choir music. She only stayed a few minutes but when she shut the door and left I turned to my buddy and said, "Someday I'm going to marry that girl." Our first date was on May 1st, my 20th birthday. I think about that a lot - the last time I was with someone else I was a teenager.

I remember the choir tour we took at the end of the school year. We performed in Las Vegas and at the Grand Canyon. One night after dinner she and I went for a walk along a trail around the rim of the Grand Canyon and we sat on a rock and watched the sunset. And I kissed her for the first time.

We dated for the next sixteen months, got engaged over Labor Day weekend in 1974, and were married February 1, 1975.

Now you know how we met.

Happy Cinco de Mona, everyone.

And Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. Thank you for all the lovely memories.