If it’s meant to be, it will be.
Hubby and I like to think that some things in life are just fate. No matter what you do, you can’t escape it. Or no matter what difficulties come your way, the good that is fated for you will arrive. It goes both ways, doesn’t it? It helps us deal with the fact that, for a very long time our best laid plans never worked out. Because it wasn’t meant to be. Right?
Speaking of fate…
We had our first “date” six years ago today.
I don’t remember if I’ve ever told yall about how everything had to align for us to meet. How a guy from Turkey and a girl from small town South Carolina wound up in the same place at the same time under such circumstances that they ended up talking to each other. I probably have, but it’s been a long time. I might as well tell it again so you don’t have to go sifting through hundreds of posts to find it.
I had a short blurb about it on my about me page, but I’ve taken it out because it deserves it’s own space (plus no one needs that much information in an about me. It’s just too much).
The more I look around the more I see stories like ours, but it doesn’t make it any less special to me. It just reinforces my belief in fate and soul mates.
Hubby was born and raised in Turkey. He went through his education in Turkey, took his undergrad in Turkey, then went to the US to better his education. He came to the US and started with ESL in Mississippi and Texas, later starting his Masters degree in Connecticut.
Meanwhile, I was born and raised in South Carolina. While he was starting his ESL I was roaming the halls of my high school during junior year, sneaking wine coolers, and trying to balance my rebellious self with my southern surroundings. After graduating, I started my undergrad at a local campus of USC (as in, the University of South Carolina, not California).
He was in Connecticut, and I was in South Carolina. Hey, but we were on the same continent!
When things in Connecticut started going down hill, a friend of his suggested giving Clemson a try. He thought about it long and hard, and said “what the hell”, and moved there for the winter term in 2010. At the time, I was still at USC trying to figure out what area I wanted to study. Come to find out, my interests best aligned with food science. Only two schools in the state have that major (and SC residents get a sizeable scholarship at SC universities, so I was limited to my home state)… The best being Clemson.
I moved to Clemson for the fall term, right after my birthday in August 2010. I had been working for a grocery chain in my hometown, so I transferred my employment to the local branch in Clemson. The same grocery store that my future husband happened to live behind.
Due to that graduate stress, hubby got sick in September (bless his heart!). He took a walk with his roommate to the grocery store for some tea and otc medication. While perusing the aisles, a certain messy haired glasses wearing employee sat on the floor checking dates on some product or another. She was cute, but he was too shy to say hello.
After I was done pulling expired product and putting back items left by customers at the registers, I was called to clean up a spill at the front.
Hubby was having a hell of a time figuring out which medicine to buy. In Turkey, you have to go to pharmacies to get your hands on any kind of medicine. In the states (at least in SC and FL) , the actual pharmacy window in a Walmart, Target, or grocery store can be closed while otc products like Aleve, Tylenol, Thera flu etc is still available on the shelves for purchase. Who could he ask? There was an old lady stocking the shelves in this department just a second ago…
After cleaning the spill in the front, I pushed the mop and bucket to the back of the store, the double doors easiest to reach by cutting through the pharmacy department. As I passed down the toothpaste display, I heard an “excuse me” from the neighboring aisle.
The old lady he saw before was gone. He had picked up two possible options, Thera flu and alkaseltzer cold. But which one would be better? Looking up, he saw the frizzy top of a girl’s red head, lead by a mop handle. He called out to her, and when she rounded the corner he ran into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
And the rest is history.
It’s crazy to think about how close to not meeting we could have been. If he hadn’t been sick that day. If I hadn’t been going down that aisle after mopping. If my coworker had still been stocking shelves. If I had applied for a different job instead of transferring to the local branch of the chain I had been working for (which, BTW, I hated that job). If he hadn’t said yes to going to Clemson. If I went to the other university that had my major.
If he would have gotten cold feet and never came back later to get my number.
I don’t believe in coincidences.