In the FirelightApril 2, 2009 at 2:19 am | Posted in Our Love Story | 1 Comment
Tags: disability, disability and marriage, disability and relationships, love, love story, Megan Cutter
That May, I headed back to Tucson for a longer, weeklong seminar. When I arrived, I walked into the kitchen to help wash dishes for dinner. Barton was drying dishes, and I was talking to him, in my slow southern accent, taking the plates he had dried and dried them with my own towel.
Finally one of my friends stepped outside and asked, “Do you have a problem with Barton? He’s trained much as much as any other man, so don’t patronize him.” It didn’t take long for me to shift out of that patronizing perspective nor to see how independent Barton is.
Early one morning, we were sweeping off the walkways. Barton banged the broom around as we struck up a conversation. That was where I learned Barton wrote poetry and we both had similar family experiences. “I would love to read some of your poetry, “ I remember saying. That night, I walked down to the fire and saw Barton on the other side of the firelight, his bright eyes beaming. In the quiet moment of the firelight, I was reflective and though we spoke briefly before being joined by others, it was if we had been talking for ages.
When everyone was packing to go home the next day, one of my friends ran up to me, “Barton’s leaving! He wants to say good-bye.” By the time I got to the car, Barton was already in the backseat. I wrote my contact info on a piece of paper and jumped into the backseat onto his lap sticking it in his pocket with a kiss on the cheek. I still wasn’t fully aware that I was in love, but my heart sure was. I never expected to receive an email when I turned my computer on as soon as I returned home.
Now we’re getting somewhere…