Being Smitten

Being Smitten

By Nate Bender

11/20/2014

This short story is dedicated to my son Jonathan as an aid to his understanding the prelude to his birthing.  This is not to exclude others from enjoying the story.

Relationship attractions (being smitten) have long held my interests, partly out of having failed twice in sustaining a marital union with the same person, the mother of my only natural child.

Taking this story back to the beginning, it is the Fall term of 1964 at Pepperdine University in Los Angeles, marked by new beginnings athletically, academically and socially. Topping it off, it was the term that marked my entry into the travails surrounding being captured, or smitten, by a woman.  Okay, Ann was also smitten, making it a mutual smiting!

Three years previous, in my senior year of high school, I had my first, albeit short-lived, encounter with being smitten with a girl named Sara. 

Back to my story…..I was now on a roll after undergoing a reality-check in my failed Peace Corps launch.  I was on a full athletic scholarship, meaning virtually all expenses were taken care of including room and board, tuition, books and fees.  I even had a laundry money stipend. 

During the previous Spring-Summer months I had completed a four-month stint on the Southern Pacific Railroad as a fireman, earning more money than I ever imaged via ample amounts of overtime. 

In the face of being infused with dedicated momentum to keep my athletic scholarship and remain academically eligible, I became an object of affection.  This mutual allure marked my first intense experience with smitten-dom.  Because of my physical (6’8”) and emotional (unsophisticated) makeup, I’m sure pre-existing impediments served as deterrents in forming mutual attractions.

The initiator of this encounter was Ann Elizabeth Waggoner, from Caldwell, Idaho.  She forthrightly introduced herself to me at a social gathering of incoming students.  I had never experienced a forthright woman before, especially not emanating from a short (5’2”), blond and attractive one.  Back in those days it was uncommon for women to be the initiators in developing relationships.  That was suppose to happen after the catch was made and marriage was secured!  Since my initiator skills were not yet developed, Ann made it rather easy for me to explore the makings of an evolving relationship.

In short order, we became an ‘item’ on campus, studying together at the library, eating together in the cafeteria, and attending other school functions. 

Part of Ann’s allure was her being different in contrast to any girl I had previously met.  Besides her beauty-queen appearance she was a dancer, including ballet, who had been hired by the school to function as a choreographer for the school’s musical tour group, The Coraliers. 

Having a chance to observe her designing dance moves for the group, I became captivated by her artistry.  She also had an extensive musical background including voice.  Foremost, I was captured by her ability to make it easy for me to relate without feeling awkward or out of synch.  The result was blind infatuation!

The Fall term went by rapidly.  I began my basketball exploits, which included out of town travel and over the holiday periods.  Ann went back to Idaho for the term break, and never returned, which I didn’t fully understand at the time.  

Some way or somehow we were able to remain connected over the following two-year period.  We arranged a visit in early 1967 in Reno, Nevada where she was living with her sister and family. 

If there is such a thing as being re-smitten, it surely happened to me.  In short order, marriage was on the option table, resulting in an August wedding in Caldwell.  She then relocated with me to Los Angeles. 

The realities of forming a marital lifestyle and community of support showed its face in short order.  The glow of being smitten changed to a more sobering ambiance around the task of creating a mutually enriching existence. 

While we had no major disagreements during this first year of marriage, it became evident that something was amiss.  My lighthearted spirit shifted to an unexpressed fear and anxiety that we were unprepared for the rigors of marriage and had made a mistake in being married. 

Fortunately, an intercession occurred, shifting my focus on a new challenge.  I unexpectedly received a draft notice for induction into the Army.  Entering the Army offered both of us an opportunity to separate and regroup without being enemies.  Ann now had the freedom to return to college and create her vocational future.  This congenial state of affairs allowed us to remain friends and in contact over the ensuing four years while serving my tours of duty.

Chapter two of my smiting is found in a reconnection with Ann in December, 1974 when I was in graduate school in San Diego, California.  This time the smiting held an even more compelling thrust.  Shortly after our reunion we were remarried, in the absence of friends and family.  Our future together now held more concrete goals and purposes, including owning a home and creating a family. 

Ann had to relocate again, this time from her residence in Massachusetts.  We bought a house in the suburbs, and settled into a domestic life supported by my Army active duty scholarship.  This time around I felt we were more mature and capable of staying for the duration.

Once we settled into our home-making efforts and into a future via my military obligations, the obvious next step was to co-create an offspring, resulting in Jonathan’s birth in 1976.

Life and our marriage changed dramatically once we encountered the reality of military life as an Army psychologist.  After multiple moves, ending in Cleveland, Ohio, the uprooting processes began to show their effects on our relationship. 

Gone were the former dreams and goals.  Instead, Ann’s unhappiness dominated in her bemoaning the insufficiency of her identity as a wife.  Where marital therapy was clearly needed, it was never enacted.  When she ultimately expressed a desire to end our marriage, I was fraught with anger and grief in the face of yet another failure.  In 1981, after seven years of marriage, we separated and finally divorced in 1982.  Smitten-dom was officially over!

As an addendum, Ann died earlier this year with Jonathan in attendance.  May she RIP now.

The sequel to this story can be found in a previous short story involving Sandra, representing my deepest level of being smitten, ever, as she has been my endearing wife of nearing 30 years now!

So, what are the learning points to be gained from this unsettling journey from being smitten into two failed marriages?  (1)  A thriving and enduring marital union requires more than the initial infatuation of being smitten;  (2) Sustainable relationships require skills to address and bridge ever emerging pit falls;  (3) I was a slow student of marital success, but once I found the way, my life has been an unimaginable growth experience and a reentry into being smitten for real!