First Marriage

First Marriage

When my senior year began at the Medical College of Georgia, my friend Melissa and I found ourselves doing what many senior girls did—we were looking over the incoming freshman medical students. Checking them out.

Russell

That's how I found Russell. Before long, we arranged a blind double date. My date was Russell, and Melissa's date was his roommate, Terry.

From the very beginning, Russell was impossible not to like. He was the king of fun. Everyone loved him. He had a large circle of friends who always seemed to gather around him. He was kind, sweet, outgoing, and loved to celebrate life. During the six and a half years we were together, I never once saw him lose his temper.

I fell for him almost immediately.

Parties and Scotch

Our weekends were filled with parties. Often, we would stop at a "pre-party" before heading to the main event, arriving a little late, already laughing and having fun. Russell had a gift for bringing energy into a room. It often seemed that when we arrived, the party truly began.

He loved Scotch. After a few drinks, if there was a live band, he would climb onto the stage and sing with them. He was an excellent dancer, and we would dance almost nonstop until the evening ended. By then, Russell was usually too intoxicated to drive, so he always handed me the keys. I didn't enjoy alcohol, so I happily became the designated driver.

Marriage

Nine months after we met—just a few weeks after I graduated—we were married. Russell wasn't especially eager to marry so quickly, but I had grown up believing there was a natural order to life: go to college, graduate, get married, and start a family.

That was the path my mother had followed. Women in my family didn't build careers. My Medical Technology degree was viewed as "insurance" in case something ever happened to my husband. Besides, my dear friend Dotty was marrying Ron, who had recently returned from Vietnam, and marriage simply felt like the next chapter of life.

I even told Russell, rather casually, "We'll try marriage, and if it doesn't work, we'll just get unmarried."

Little did I know those words would eventually come true.

Wedding

Our wedding was a joyful celebration, followed by a honeymoon in Puerto Rico.

The night before the wedding provided one of those stories that has become family legend. Russell's groomsmen got him thoroughly drunk, drove him toward Bayport around one o'clock in the morning, stripped off his clothes, pushed him out of the car, and drove away laughing. Using a palm frond to preserve his dignity, he walked several miles to the Holiday Inn, where the night watchman helped him telephone for assistance. It seemed hilarious at the time.

Cracks

For about two years, I believed I was living happily ever after. Then small cracks began to appear. During Russell's senior year of medical school, I noticed he openly flirted with other women.

He adored golf and spent many Saturdays and Sundays on the course. Those weekends became lonely for me.

The Beatles

One evening, while driving from Augusta to Florida, we stopped for dinner with Dotty and Ron in Atlanta before continuing south. As we passed the Atlanta Stadium later that night, I noticed how unusually quiet the roads were. We soon learned why. The Beatles were performing.

Although we never attended the concert, knowing they were only a short distance away thrilled me. It remains the closest I ever came to seeing one of my favorite groups.

Internship

After graduation, Russell and I headed for his internship in Dallas. When I began looking for work, he surprised me by saying he didn't want me employed at the small private hospital he was working at. It didn't trouble me much at the time because I had been hired at Parkland Memorial Hospital, the hospital where John F. Kennedy had been taken after he was shot.

Life in Dallas revolved around work, parties, and nightlife.

We went clubbing nearly every weekend. Russell drank.

I drove. One club would close, and we'd simply move on to another that stayed open later.

One Sunday morning, after leaving a nightclub, Russell became so tired and intoxicated that he lay down on the grass outside. Someone warned him that the police could arrest him for public drunkenness if he didn't get up.

Changing Feelings

Gradually, the excitement that had once attracted me began wearing thin. I grew tired. Lonely. Restless.

From the beginning of our marriage, Russell had maintained a weekly "guys' night out." One evening in Dallas, he never came home from his night out. I didn't see him until the following afternoon. He apologized profusely and sent me a dozen long-stemmed red roses, explaining that he had passed out and slept until morning.

I wanted to believe him.

Wanting a Divorce

A few weeks later, however, everything came to a head.

We were hosting a party at our townhouse when one of Russell's former girlfriends arrived. For most of the evening, he ignored me and openly flirted with her.

Something inside me finally broke. That night, I told him I wanted a divorce. I called my parents and made plans to move to Atlanta, where my uncle had arranged a position for me at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Four days later, Russell begged me to stay. Whether because of his own realization or encouragement from his parents, he promised things would change. Some things did. Many did not.

I stayed because I still loved him. My heart was deeply intertwined with his, and I simply didn't know what else to do.

Air Force

After internship, Russell entered the Air Force. Following three months of Flight Surgeon training in San Antonio, we moved to Columbus, Mississippi. Since there was no nearby medical center where I wanted to work, I enrolled at the Mississippi University for Women and earned my master's degree in biology. Academically, those years were rewarding.

Stopped Trying

Emotionally, our marriage continued to unravel. Although Russell stopped openly flirting, deeper problems remained. Over time, I became increasingly sad, angry, and resentful. Whenever I tried to discuss our relationship, he dismissed my concerns. Eventually, I stopped trying.

I quietly accepted that our marriage was dying, although I still didn't know what to do.

Tommy

During that time, I wrote to Tommy, an old college boyfriend, telling him about my unhappiness. He suggested we spend a weekend together in the North Georgia mountains. We did. It wasn't the beginning of a new relationship. Tommy was getting married two weeks later. Instead, it was a gentle reminder of what kindness, friendship, and emotional connection felt like. It was, as I have often thought, a cool balm for my soul.

Revelation

By then, I understood what I truly needed. I wanted a marriage built on trust. I wanted a partner who would protect our relationship rather than repeatedly wound it.

I wanted honesty, faithfulness, emotional safety, and someone who placed our marriage above passing impulses.

Russell could not give me those things. Loving someone is not always enough. Sometimes love exists, but the foundation is missing.

When I finally met Rich, I realized that my first marriage had taught me not only what I wanted in a husband—but what I needed. Only then did I know it was time to let go of one chapter so another could begin.

The End of One Road

Sometimes love is not enough.

Sometimes two hearts

walk the same road

only for a little while.

I grieved the dream

more than the ending,

for it was "happily ever after"

that I had to let go.

But every ending

quietly asks a question:

"Will you have the courage

to begin again?"

So I gathered the pieces

of a hopeful heart,

took a deep breath,

and stepped toward

an unknown future.

I thought I was leaving love behind.

Instead,

I was walking

toward the love

that had been waiting

for me all along.