My Own Personal Hero 😍

Have you read the first four blog posts in this series? Read #1 here, #2 here, #3 here and #4 here!

It was on our third date that I first noticed Paul’s ability to calmly navigate a crisis. He’d planned an afternoon outing to George’s Island in Boston Harbor, and we met at the ferry docks near Faneuil Hall.

It was one of the last days the ferry would run for the season, and it was windy, but we stayed on the top deck of the boat, lurching around with the waves and the streaming sunlight, laughing and enjoying the occasional steadying touch.

When we got to the island, we ate picnic lunches on benches overlooking the ocean. Seagulls sculled and screamed overhead, diving down for an attack on a table just vacated by a group of teens. We laughed. When we finished eating, I got up and chased the birds.

We toured the island, the highlight of which was Fort Warren, built in the 1800s and used as a prison during the Civil War. There were cliffs, ruins, and conversation—lots of conversation. Paul was extraordinarily easy to talk to and, with him, I never felt the need to watch what I said.

Despite the easy conversation, there were still plenty of nerves. We hadn’t kissed yet, and I could sense that this would probably be the day. Flustered and a bit fearful, I looked away every time he tried to hold my gaze.

Finally, at about a quarter to four, we went inside the old granite armory where the soldiers had stored their gunpowder during the war. It was dark and cool, and Paul had to duck down to enter through the door. We gravitated to the little window at the back of the building, slanted inward to protect against gunfire. I kept talking; Paul nodded and stepped in. And then it was happening: his hands on my shoulders, that first sweet kiss.

We exited the armory a minute later, thinking we had time to spare, since the last ferry wasn’t scheduled to depart until four. As we walked toward the dock, however, we noticed that there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. We picked up the pace, walking quickly, then started to run.

The ferry was out at sea, the dock deserted. There were no more boats scheduled to make the trip that day. Even the people who’d been staffing the café were gone. We were stranded.

“Uh,” I said, looking sheepishly at Paul. “What do we do?”

He pulled out his cell phone. “We could try calling the police,” he said, hands on his hips, surveying the scene. “Or . . .” he said, catching sight of a small fishing boat off to the side of the ferry dock. Two men were onboard. Paul motioned to them, then raised his voice. “Hey! You got a radio?”

One of the guys nodded. We moved closer to where their small ship was moored.

“Do me a favor and see if you can get a hold of the boat.”

They nodded, and one of the guys put the radio to his mouth. Hoping, hoping, hoping, we watched the ferry, a few hundred yards out, move away for another minute or two before slowly turning around.

We thanked our fishermen friends profusely and waited the five or six minutes it took the boat to return to shore. The ferry workers were none too thrilled with us, but we were too relieved to have a ride back home to care.

I remember stealing admiring glances at Paul as we floated back to Boston. He’d called the boat back. Come up with a plan immediately, acted decisively, not lost his cool. The man had called the boat back. The man was my own personal hero.

Recalling the ferry wasn’t the only time Paul confidently conquered a crisis. There was the time I totaled my car, cleared it out before abandoning it at the junkyard, got home, and realized I’d left my lucky Hello Kitty angel dangling from the dash. I called Paul in tears. He didn’t have a car, so he took a cab to the junkyard and retrieved my little winged cat.

There was the time my uncle was taken off life support, and Paul sat with me for hours afterward as I cried and cried. The time I got a flat tire, and he rode his bike for thirty minutes to fix it for me. The time I got locked out of my apartment for two days, and he skipped work to stay home and accept the Fed Ex package containing my key.

There were many, many times when he calmly came to my aid.

And I wasn’t the only one who benefited from his composure and grace. Indeed, at our wedding reception, the best man gave a speech about this very same quality in Paul:

“To be quite honest, I wasn’t initially sure why Paul had selected me to do the honors tonight. In thinking about the job of the best man, I decided that the groom’s nervous, he’s thinking about life, and maybe he needs to be calmed down. Maybe he’s a loose cannon, and the best man’s job is to swoop in and settle him down. But then I thought, that’s the exact opposite of the relationship here, because it’s Paul who’s always composed, who’s a natural leader, someone with a great deal of maturity, and someone I can always look to as a great friend.

“At any rate, Paul and I first met when we pledged a fraternity together. Right off the bat I could see that Paul was an individual who was decisive, mature, and always able to affect exactly what he wanted, which in general is good things for his friends and colleagues.

“Among the many experiences we had together as pledges, one that sticks out is rebuilding a pub in the basement of one of the frat houses. My particular specialty was tearing apart the floors. Paul was the captain of the entire shift, however, and one night when I was working on the floor, he told me, ‘Don’t stay up playing with power tools and potentially losing your appendages. You should go right to bed.’ So, of course, I didn’t do that.

“I remember waking Paul up at six o’clock the next morning with a few cuts on my hands, having flirted with disaster all night. I’ve encountered a lot of people who, under those circumstances, would fly off the handle and give you a lot of trouble, but Paul just gave me a little smirk, told me to go to bed, and never brought it up again.

“Over the last eight years, I’ve seen this with Paul again and again. With the lightest touch he’s able to put you on the right path and help guide you where you should be going. That’s a wonderful attribute to have, and I think that Paul’s going to be a great husband and a great father someday.”

I spent my wedding day in a blaze of happiness. I knew how blessed I was to have found this kind, calm, and generous partner, and I prayed only that, whether we experienced times of joy or heartache, our love and commitment to each other would remain strong and be used as a foundation to help others.

In ways I never imagined, God has answered that prayer.

Find out what happened next by clicking here!