The Art of Matchmaking Never Dies

Today is my one-year anniversary dating my boyfriend J. In honor, I’m going to derail from my somewhat usual PF topic and share with you a little story.

-one year ago-

My life pretty much turned upside down this time last year. I had just graduated college, been offered a new job that started June 3rd, my family was moving out of our 20-year old home, and I just started dating my good friend.

The day before I moved up here, I had a wedding to attend in J’s hometown, two hours from my hometown. I stopped by his house a few hours before so that I could get ready and meet his parents. I know it was extremely premature to meet his parents after dating one week, but I was moving five hours away that’s just how it happened.

I arrived, met his dad and then J went upstairs to get ready. I was sitting at their kitchen table just trying to come up with something interesting to talk about with his dad. We exhausted his job topic, my move topic, the weather topic, the economy topic. Really, I was pulling teeth here.

Then I asked him how he and J’s mom met. He said it was in the city that I grew up in. Finally! A topic I can relate to. He then proceeded to tell me that he was living in a large house with a couple that rented rooms to college kids and recent graduates. His landlady had befriended a girl next door (J’s mom) and hinted that they should get together, but J’s dad was pretty shy (explains the topic exhaustion). One Sunday, his landlady just happened to invite both of them over for lunch in hopes to get them to meet. They hit it off and the rest is history.

By this point, J had joined us at the kitchen table. The next few moments’ conversation looked something like this:

Me: Aw that’s such a sweet story! Where did you live in Hometown?

J-Dad: On SG Street.

Me: Oh cool! My grandparents used to live on that street.

J-Dad: I worked at X place during that time and J-Mom lived next door in some apartments.

Me: Oh cool. Where on SG Street?

J-Dad: It was across from a high school sort of near the train tracks.

Me: Wait, X-high school on SG Street?

J-Dad: Yes.

Me: Oh nice. What did the house look like?

J-Dad: It was an old white farm house. J-Mom got to be really good friends with my landlady. She would go and visit with her while she gardened in her backyard.

Me: They had a large garden in the backyard?

J-Dad: Yes…

Me: If you don’t mind me asking, what was the name of your landlady?

J-Dad: Betsy.

—long pause—

Me: That’s my grandmother.

J-Dad: Excuse me?

Me: Betsy X?

J-Dad: Yeah, married to Edward-X.

Me: Yes! That’s my grandfather!

J-Dad: You’re telling me, Betsy-X is your grandmother and set up J-Mom and me?

Me: I guess so!

J-Dad: Wait, so then M is your father!

Me: You know my dad?!

J-Dad: Yes, he lived across the hall from me during that time. I had a room upstairs with red carpet.

Me: That was turned into a playroom when I was little! My sisters and I used to have slumber parties in there!

…and yada yada yada.

Finally we stopped with the memory lane and I had forgotten that J was at the table. I look over and he’s got this HolyCrapWhatIsHappening-look going on. Later that day I asked him what he was thinking during that moment and he said he was just making sure we weren’t related.

So. That is the story of my match-making grandmother who introduced J’s parents. Ironically she died two years ago this month and wasn’t able to meet J, which is really too bad because she would probably remember all the details of her match.

Happy One Year! <3

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