25 Years and Counting
This summer, Craig and I are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. We got married on 7/7/00—a date Craig will never forget, mostly because in aviation, “squawking 7700” signals a mid-air emergency that requires immediate attention. Fitting, right?
We met on January 31, 1999—Super Bowl weekend. I had just moved to Beaver Dam and separated from my (now ex-)husband, Tom. That night, my friend Bonnie called and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner. I said “yes,” and she immediately replied, “You pick the restaurant, I’ll drive.”
I had no clue where to go, so I called Mom. “Where do people even eat in this little corner of the planet?” I asked. She said, “Whispering Wings.” And that was that.
Bonnie and I walked into the restaurant and headed for the hostess stand. She glanced across the bar and shouted, “Craig! What are you doing here?” There he stood, sipping a CC and Coke, waiting on his takeout order. Turns out he was friends with her son, Rob, and had called earlier to see what Rob was up to that night.
Without hesitation, Bonnie looked at him, then me, and said, “Join us for dinner!” Craig hesitated. “But I already ordered takeout.” Bonnie waved him off. “Tell them you changed your mind.” So… he did.
That dinner felt like a tennis match—for Bonnie, at least. Craig and I volleyed stories and laughs while she sat, amused, watching sparks fly. I told Craig I had three goals:
-
I wanted a family, even though I knew it might not be easy.
-
I dreamed of owning a shack on the beach.
-
I wanted a little MG convertible.
Not exactly your typical flirty small talk, but hey—it was honest.
We didn’t want the night to end, so we headed to Cocktails, a little bar nearby, to keep the conversation going. At bar time, Craig walked us to the car and asked for my number. He invited me over to watch the football game on Sunday. “Sorry,” I said, “I have to cut my cousin’s hair.” He totally thought I was blowing him off. I wasn’t… but I get why he thought that.
Fast forward nearly a year. It’s New Year’s Eve. Craig and I are living together in my house in downtown Beaver Dam, and we’re getting ready to head out with my family for dinner at the Iron Ridge Inn.
Craig was in the living room—polo shirt, socks, underwear. (You’re welcome for the visual.) He called out, “Lisa! Come here—I need you to look at this!” He was kneeling next to my golden retriever, Eli. I knelt down and started feeling around her collar. “I don’t feel anything,” I said.
He tried giving directions, but I wasn’t getting it. Finally, he gave up, scrambled off—half-dressed—and bolted upstairs. A moment later, he returned holding a diamond engagement ring.
Right then and there, in his socks and briefs, next to the dog, he dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him.
I said yes.
And now here we are. Twenty-five years later.
We’ve built a lifetime together. Craig served two Army deployments. We adopted three incredible kids—Luka and Kadon from Russia, and Aubrey from Texas. We built a house. We’ve weathered storms—literal and figurative. Craig retired from John Deere and dabbled in other maintenance and engineering gigs. I left teaching, did a stint at a big-box retailer, and eventually launched my coaching business.
And still—some people say we’re an odd match. Bonnie told me once that she asked her son if she should set us up. “Nah,” he said, “Craig’s a putz.” Others who know me say Craig wasn’t what they pictured for me.
But love isn’t about image. It’s about shared values. Goals. Kindness. Heart.
And Craig? He’s got all of them in spades.
Click here to check out other Sidetracked opinions
Click here to listen to the Sidetracked Legacies podcast
Want to create your own legacy? Join the Sidetracked Sisters and start now!
Ever thought about working with a Life Coach? Are you creative or a writer who is frustrated with your inability to do the work you so desperately feel called to do? Check out Lisa Hoffman Coaching.
#sidetrackedsisters #sidetrackedlisa #sidetrackedlegacies #legacywriting #legacystories #writeyourownlegacy #LisaHoffmanCoaching
