A Cart Boy & Cashier

I was a sixteen year old boy, not much older than my son is today. I had been working at our local Menards as a carryout, a fancy way of saying 'cart boy'. My job was simple, bring the carts in from the parking lot, help customers load oversized items, and if working the closing shift, empty the register trash. It was the perfect job for me, at sixteen I did my best to melt into my surroundings rather than being part of them.

I was working the late shift on a nondescript summer Saturday night, what seemed unlimited in those days, now seems so fleeting the older that I get. I had spent most of that particular evening outside, as I did most of the time. With the store closed, I began collecting the trash. Reaching under the register of lane three, I heard something behind me, I turned and found my path blocked and my life forever changed.

I can’t remember what she was wearing, but I do remember her blue apron and her smile. I know there was more, but it was her smile that drew me in. It was infectious. And terrifying. She introduced herself and asked me how old I was, then asked if I wanted to go dancing. I was speechless. And terrified. Cornered in lane 3, it was impossible for me to melt away, it was impossible for me to be anything but hers.

It has been that way for twenty five years now, and today we celebrate 20 years of marriage. Our wedding day was a lot like it is now as I write this…cold, cloudy, with the anticipation of warmer days ahead. Karen and I have literally grown up together and I would not be the man I am without the woman she has become. We have laughed, we have cried, we have lost, and we have won. We love a son who makes us laugh everyday, and we have found the narrative to our story deep in the woods of Minnesota. I can’t imagine our life being any different, and I am so excited for the next twenty years and more.