Remember that ice-breaker game used with a crowd of people who are not familiar with each other, Three Truths and A Lie? See if you can pick out the lie in my personal version:
1. I have never shot a gun.
2. My perfect breakfast is Eggs Benedict.
3. I met Mother Teresa.
4. I tent camped on a honeymoon.
If you chose number 2 as the lie, you are correct; I hate eggs. Despite childhood pleadings from my hunter brother, Lowell, I never pulled the trigger on a gun. He did however, teach me to bend a bow and how to shoot non-poisonous darts from his homemade, pipe blow gun. Larry and I met Mother Teresa in 1986 when we visited her Sisters of Charity Compound in Calcutta. It was a humbling experience. And in June, 1982, we tent camped for three nights on our honeymoon.
I can see your thought bubbles forming at the mention of tent and honeymoon: glamping, African safari style, with gauzy panels enclosing a platform bed. Soft, white fabric sways as the breeze wafts in through the open sides of the tent structure. From the center of the tent, there is a modest chandelier with burning candles that flicker in the night. Sounds perfectly romantic, but that wasn’t at all like our tent.
In June of 1982, when we were married, Larry and I had a wealth of dreams and love stockpiled, but very little cash. He had just graduated from college and was looking toward the next educational step. He solely footed his tuition payments, managing to work full time while he was a college student. I had not been afforded the privilege of college, but rather, followed in my siblings’ footsteps of getting a job to help pay the bills at home. I paid for my own wedding, all-be-it the simple occasion that it was.
For the months preceding our nuptials, I was employed as a domestic goddess for a local physician’s family: I cleaned their house, cooked dinner, and babysat their three kids. Mrs. C was very intrigued with my conservative Mennonite wedding plans and was thrilled with an invitation! She asked me where I was registered for china. I told her that I wasn’t really registered anywhere, but I was hoping for some of the white corelle plates rimmed in green flowers that I’d seen at K Mart. She brought an envelope with cash to the wedding for a gift.
We had planned to drive through the New England states on our honeymoon; we would drive as far and stay as long as our money lasted. We shamelessly collected any envelopes with cash wedding gifts (I think we had $700) and set off after the hot ham and cheese sandwiches were eaten. We managed to make that money last for two glorious weeks. We made our way to Boston, where Larry had his heart set on seeing a Boston Red Sox/Cleveland Indians baseball game. Lodging in this city was beyond our means, so we bought a $20 pup tent and used it for our two nights there.
From the coast of Maine and the White Mountains of New Hampshire, our blue Dodge Colt trudged on north into Canada, to Quebec City. We decided that this would be a good place to pull out the tent to save money on lodging. We found a campground and pitched our neon orange tent. Alas, this was in the dark ages before weather apps on cell phones. Actually, it was before cell phones. The skies turned black and water poured from the clouds, with thunder and lightning along for the ride. Huddled in our tiny, plastic structure, we used a flash light to play the word game, Boggle, to distract ourselves. When water started seeping into the tent from the ground, we abandoned ship and slept in the car.
The grand finale of our trip was a stop at Niagara Falls, the new 8th Wonder of the World. A few years earlier, Larry had traveled through Europe with a few friends, but most of my trips were to visit out-of-state relatives. I had seen places in books, but certainly had not experienced the luxury of travel up close and in person. My virgin, 20 year old eyes were in awe of the thousands of gallons of water spilling over the falls, causing steam to rise. Our marital adventure was commencing; who knew all the fond memories the coming decades would forge?!
Last weekend, nearly 37 years later, we returned to the Falls. For Larry’s November birthday, I surprised him with tickets to a Josh Groban concert, Valentine’s weekend in Niagara Falls. Larry loves Groban’s music and the rich quality of his voice. (I know its not Bon Jovi, but this is what happens when you are raised on hymns). We arrived into Buffalo Airport at midnight on Friday and were met by our shuttle, which drove us to the Canadian Niagara Falls. We rode the elevator to our hotel room on the 34th floor, flung open the curtains and there was the whole, panoramic view of the falls, lit with changing colored lights.
The next morning, we watched dawn light up the sky and the water, from the comfort of our bed. Okay, I did keep jumping up to get another picture. I don’t know why I feel such an overwhelming need to memorialize moments with words or a picture. Our mature eyes have seen many vistas, but from this height, our view of the falls took our breath away.
Food is always a priority for us; braced against the Canadian cold, we walked 5 blocks to a lovely restaurant, located inside an old stone building, now a boutique hotel.
Located in the Old Stone Inn.
The French Press Coffee was deep, rich, and smoky. Every former farmer needs a mini milk can for cream.
He had a steak and cheese omelet topped with caramelized onion jam.
She had French Toast Brûlée (she only ate one slice and no sausage).
The pièce de résistance was the shared peppercorn candied bacon, with warm maple syrup.
The rest of the day we spent visually appreciating the falls from different angles: up close, from height looking down, from behind beverage glasses, and then, after dark, with a lovely dinner overlooking the 8th World Wonder.
And finally, we found ourselves sitting in an intimate auditorium, swept away with melodies, new and old, from a voice as rich and full and thick and sweet as the maple syrup from our breakfast bacon. We held hands in the dark, hearts overflowing with emotion.
The mirror doesn’t lie; we are getting older. What a treasured gift to have this weekend to create new memories, but also to remember who we once were when we were starting out, all those years ago, looking out over the waters of Niagara Falls. Yes, you raise me up to more than I can be.