A sad change

It dawned on me recently that a place of significance in Pat's and my past is now changed forever. In her mother's house, when they converted the garage into a larger kitchen and family room, that place of significance disappeared. That would be the garage itself. There are two events that took place in that place that may have changed our lives forever. The first occurred in high school when we were sixteen. Mike Williams and I walked her home either after school, or after a school event (I can't recall details). He waited in the driveway or on the sidewalk while I walked Pat into the garage to say goodbye. I remember her leaning against the wall near the door to the kitchen saying goodbye and then hesitantly moving in to steal my first kiss from her. It was the first time I had kissed anyone and I can't brag that I was good at it, but walking away from the house I was feeling really good. The second event, and even more notable, happened on Christmas Eve in 1968. It was after returning from midnight mass with Pat's family. Her father had backed the car into the garage as he always did, and we all exited the car to go into the house through the kitchen. I asked Pat to stay behind a minute because I had something to tell her. Later she would tell me she thought I was going to break up with her because we had broken up a number of times before and she thought this was going to be one of those times. But in almost the exact same spot that I stole that kiss, I took out a ring and asked her to marry me. Not the most romantic gesture; surely not like putting it on a scoreboard or having it written in the sky, but it did the job. So, I lament the disappearance of that garage.