Meeting Old Man Winter

As I sit here, like all writers do, hiding the truth within beautiful lies, I reach far back at your promptings; far back to the time when someone changed my life. It is hard as a writer of fiction, to tell the truth. We pretend to be so many people and when it comes to the truth, we get so good at burying it in our stories, that it is difficult to share it accurately. I find it hard even in church to share my testimony (my story of coming to Christ) because it requires me to be honest. So, I will pretend to tell you as a friend, the story of how I met my husband. The rock behind all my ramblings, the one who has brought me courage and taken me outside of myself into many adventures.

“Come on, give me a chance and write to me,” said Winter, my husband’s old gaming name. The words appeared across the white messenger screen in black.

My younger brother, Shaun hung over my shoulder, excitedly egging me on. He had been the manipulator behind this meeting and was certain we would hit it off. I wasn’t so sure.

I frowned and glared at the screen. “No, I don’t do long-distance relationships,” I responded, typing quickly and preparing to shut the window down. Long-distance relationships never worked out. Everyone knew that.

“Are you going to give him a chance?” asked Shaun.

“No,” I replied. “Besides how old is this guy? You said he’s done with high school?”

“Yes, oh just give the guy a chance.”

“No,” I typed and turned to give my brother a look that could only be read as BACK OFF.

“Just write to me as a friend, then,” said Winter on messenger, almost as if he had heard my brother’s words.

I did like to write and I loved sending and receiving letters. I grumbled and conceded. “Okay.”

I was still in High School, it was my senior year and I was laden down with calculus, art, and computing. I had given up on music. It was too hard and a lot of work for very little payback. I had plans to work and save up after high school. I would go to college for programming, escape to England, marry some hot Scottish guy, and live happily ever after. It was all set in stone. I had never had luck with boys in High School and it was bad enough that many of my girlfriends were beginning to think my interests trended in their direction. In all honesty, I had the same interest in boys as every one of them, but none of them were interested in me and at the age of seventeen, I had never been kissed.

Winter and I began writing to each other. At first, once a week and then more often. Pages and pages of getting to know each other, daily activities, observations, personal thoughts, and discussions on the bigger picture ideas of life.

Winter would go to the library on Saturday, his day off from the Western Star shop in Florida to send his letter and I would receive it Sunday morning when I woke up. I was a day ahead, so trying to get together was always difficult. Even so, his letters soon became the highlight of my week. They were a chance to escape from the crazy amount of work I had to accomplish for my senior year in high school and see the world through his eyes.

“Needles to say…” he began many of his paragraphs.

Writing was difficult for him because to this day, he is slightly dyslexic and struggles with spelling, though he does write beautifully when he tries. His mistakes were always followed by fits of laughter from myself. I found them hilarious, but they were sweet and became something I cherished. I appreciated his attempts and it allowed me to connect with him on a deeper level than I had with anyone in real life.

We began playing computer games together and I abandoned my normal gaming group and played exclusively with him. He challenged me to think beyond what I knew and when we played games together, he helped me play at a much higher level than I was used to. I was a sniper and he was a close-range fighter. He was a tank and I switched from playing an archer to a healer. We worked extremely well together and got to the point where we could anticipate each other’s moves.

In my senior year, my family spent a great deal of time traveling, trying to capture the last of our time together as a family before I went to college or became an adult. I saved many of our emails for the last twenty years, they have sat, treasured away in my email box.

Dearest Winter,

This morning, we headed out of Wellington, our nation’s capital, and crossed the mountains called the Rumatakas. The road was very different from the one crossing our own Southern Alps. It went up and up and round and round until you can’t really tell north from any other direction. This was not good for me. I suffer from carsickness in a horrible way. I usually dope myself up on travel pills before long journeys so I travel very quietly, but I guess they hadn’t kicked in yet. So, I got Lesley to stop in a place called Greytown so I could get a drink and pie. They make awesome pies there, I can still remember the taste of the one I had. Mum pointed out that Americans have to travel for hours in their vehicles all the time.

Arrowcat (My gaming name)

To the one I cherish most of all,

I wish I was there with you.

I am going to have to admit something to you, I have not written to you all week since I last spoke to you on New Year's Day. I have also thought of nothing but you, but I took some words that you said to heart and decided that I needed to spend time doing what I wanted to do. So, I played some of the games I had not touched in a while and almost didn’t go to work I was enjoying myself so much one day. It was nice, but it would have been better if I was with you and not the computer.

I do love you more than anything, and it is my hope that we can be together soon one way or the other. I think that we will and the kind of love that I have for you is something that I have never felt before. I feel very comfortable talking with you and I know that I will feel the same if not better being in your presence. It is funny as time goes on how just the thought that you are mine and that I can trust you no matter what you are doing and who you are with is the most wonderful feeling I have ever felt.

Winter

In the hopes of making more money, he left his job as a mechanic and became a truck driver. For a time, it became even harder to connect with him and our gaming sessions turned into a once-a-week talk on the phone. I waited eagerly each Sunday afternoon for his call. International calls were not cheap, especially between New Zealand and the United States.

“Hello, hot stuff,” he said, shortly after the phone rang. I found this most hilarious. I had never been “Hot,” but he insisted and I laughed.

“Hey, old man,” I responded in kind. A joke because he was four years older than me. It doesn’t seem like much now, but as a senior in High school, he did seem like an old man.

I graduated not long after and began working, too. Finding a job as a high school graduate in Christchurch in 2006 was not easy. I applied for well over a hundred jobs, many of whom turned me down. I took a job as a brushhand with a painting crew who thought a girl would never cope with climbing a ladder. I proved them wrong. The boy I interviewed alongside quit that day and they hired me instead.

Dearest Winter,

Today, I painted the roof of an older couple. They have the most incredible view. Their house overlooked the city of Christchurch, the Southern Alps in the distance. You can see the ocean out east and the city stretches far to the west. Sometimes, the smog covers the city and it's hard to see, but I take my lunch up there and sit next to the drying paint on the eaves and look out. They are a cute couple, now old and still very much in love. They bought it in the 1950s for $50,000 and today it is worth over $2m.

My love is yours,

Arrowcat.

To the one I cherish,

That’s incredible. I wish I could sit there with you and enjoy the view. I’m headed to Florida. Call you on Sunday.

Winter

When Winter – the season, did arrive, I was laid off from the lack of work and I found a job at Swandri. I loved working in a warehouse, it was a lot of fun. It opened my eyes to how bad the job situation was in Christchurch. We had a Masters of Engineering driving a forklift and a woman with a PHD in business managing the shop. I only got the job through a family contact and it lasted while they were busy and then I was laid off as soon as the winter was over. I was back to square one.

Winter and I broke up. We were both working long hours and when his phone began having issues, that was the end. I was devastated and my mother suggested I just take the money I had and go to university to start my degree, so I did. I reconnected with some of my old gaming buddies and we had a blast eating curry and discussing computer games.

Unlike high school, I was suddenly surrounded by many interested men, most of whom were much older than me. They had dated all the good-looking women and wanted someone they could settle down with. I dated another man long-distance and we had some good times and went on a casual date with another man in my programming class. Being clueless, I didn't realize that was a date until it was too late and when he leaned over to kiss me, I backed away. They were good men, but I knew they weren't for me.

Winter returned late one night. He contacted me on messenger and we talked. We argued for many hours into the night and worked through the issues of what had led to our breakup. I had been attracted to many men/boys in the past, people who I thought I loved, but it was nothing compared to how I felt for Winter. There was something different about him. The love was deeper and we weren’t just best friends. We were a team.

“Will you marry me?” he asked not long after, over the phone.

“I’m not sure this is the time. Don’t you want to do it in person?”

“Then I’ll come there.”

We spent a month trying to put together the funds. I had blown most of what I had on college courses at the university, but between us, we almost had enough.

Winter frowned from the other side of the computer screen, “I just don’t have enough to come there,” he admitted. “But…I did look into something else. We have enough to bring you to the United States.”

I was nineteen and this was the nightmare scenario of most parents. Their young daughter packing up and leaving for a foreign country and getting kidnapped or worse.

“Someone will be leaving us,” said one of the men in the church that Sunday. He was known for having visions. “Someone will be collected and taken away. A baby eagle who must be kicked out of the nest to take flight.”

I knew it was me, but I said nothing.

There had been indications in my own Bible readings of a great journey and someone coming to take me away. I spent hours dwelling on it and praying until I decided to go ahead. What would be considered the worst decision turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. A leap of faith.

“You can’t go to America. You’re only nineteen. What if he’s trying to kidnap you?” said my parents. Many of the other people I had told echoed the same sentiments.

“What about your degree?” asked others.

“You’re an idiot,” said my friends.

I did not pay any heed. I have always been stubborn, but I did take the necessary precautions and prepared to leave New Zealand with a stack of traveler's checks and a book full of names of emergency contacts.

I can still remember standing in Christchurch airport. Dark blue covered the floors, the chairs - everything. The signature colour of Air New Zealand. Signs warning not to make dark jokes in the airport - a great pastime of many New Zealanders covered the walls in every direction. It often gets us in trouble, especially at airports throughout the world. It was afternoon and a small group of people met my family and me there, eager to say farewell.

My friends and family embraced me one by one and tried to talk me out of my decision. They all had the same grim looks on their faces. In their opinion, they were attending my funeral.

The hardest was my grandmother. I knew when I said goodbye to her, that there was the possibility I would never see her again. To my surprise, she was positive about my leaving.

“I have a message for you,” she whispered in my ear and shoved a tiny piece of paper into my hand. My grandmother had always had a more intimate relationship with the Lord and she and my grandfather had once converted a man who showed up at their home to murder them, but that is a different story.

I read it and smiled. “She will be well looked after.” I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her in close, taking in the scent of spearmint as I said goodbye.

“Thanks.”

I left them all behind me and climbed the escalator, not looking back so as not to show my tears.

The plane trip took me from Christchurch through Auckland International Airport to LAX. I kept my friends and family updated through email on the free computers at the airports. When I arrived in Auckland, Winter had sent me a message too.

Hey love, I am heading out to Callie and they are going to keep me out there until I pick you up. I will talk to you in a few days. Love you very much and will be thinking of you always.

Your knight forever and ever,

Winter

After a fourteen-hour flight, I arrived at LAX. I was deeply jet-lagged and shaking with anticipation. The line through customs took forever to get through and it seemed like the lines I was in, seemed determined not to move. I was one of the last three people through the door, pushing my cart, piled high with suitcases. My dyed black hair pulled back and my glasses rested on my nose.

Winter stood just outside. One of the last few waiting, towering above the security guard and trying to engage him in conversation while eagerly scanning the door from the corner of his eyes. He did not recognize me at first. He was expecting someone much taller even though we had seen each other multiple times through the webcam. His golden-brown eyes rested on me, when I stopped, drawing me in and causing my heart to race. He couldn’t stop staring, his big goofy grin was matched with my own thin-lipped smile.

I went to him, nervous, because I had still never been kissed and I knew that was where this was headed. My thoughts raced and my stomach was a pit of butterflies. The security guard let me through and Winter caught me up in his arms, embracing me. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, over and over.

The security guard growled at us and told us to get moving and stop holding up the line.

Winter took me in a yellow taxi to the truck stop where he was parked. We walked to the local mall and watched a movie, before returning to the truck stop for dinner. We ordered and I had never seen meals so big in my life. An enormous steak that filled half the plate, a pile of potato, a bread roll, and greens beans. It was enough to feed three people in my family.

“So, you want to get married, then?” he asked.

“Don’t you want to get down on one knee?”

“In front of all these truckers?”

“Well, yes.”

“No.” He leaned across the table, staring deep into my eyes. His own filled with so much hope, “So?”

My heart leaped for joy. “Yes, Winter, I will marry you.”

We were married a month later in Texas, just before the new year.

Since I met my husband, my life has changed beyond measure. I have traveled all over the USA, driven a semi-truck, learned how to use tools, secured loads, and survived the tougher situations in life - all with my husband. I have flown above the Grand Canyon in a helicopter, and I have starved and slept on couches. I have run a business, worked in ministry and I have become a mother to three wonderful children.

I am now a writer, still waiting to publish and my husband supports me. He has helped write dialogue for my male characters, planned out great battles with me, and solved engineering problems and it all started with a series of love letters.