Know of any good love stories?

So, my mom had an idea.
(The picture attached actually has nothing to do with her idea; I just needed something wedding-ish to illustrate this post. And because I'm paranoid about copyright infringements, I had to use a picture from my personal collection.
(Plus, I wanted to provide proof of how much fashion times have changed since 1995. Look at my dress: It appears to have been made out of 1,000 swans. Or 1,000 small, fluffy bells. Take your pick. Not that I'm opposed to this look, even today. I remain staunchly in favor of frills.)
OK, back to my mom's idea, which can be summed up like this: Lots of newlyweds or anniversary-celebrating couples would love to have a sweet/funny/touching story written about their lives together. And as a professional writer and interviewer, I could do that for them.
I already write True Romances for The Dallas Morning News (a few recent articles are posted below), so this would be in a similar style, only not published in the paper. Instead, I'd package the story for the happy couple so that they could share it at their wedding/engagement party/anniversary bash, etc. I don't have a name for this little venture yet, but I'm thinking it should be something simple, like Our Story.
Many of the details are still being ironed out, but I wanted to just throw the idea out there to see what people think. Maybe you know a couple who's planning a wedding or party; perhaps this could be your gift to them. (And it wouldn't be too costly, as I'm ridiculously reasonable.)
Anyway, please feel free to post a message here, or better yet, email me at darlajatlas@yahoo.com with your thoughts.
Oh, and thanks to my mom for her continued brainstorming!

A few True Romances from The Dallas Morning News:

By DARLA ATLAS
Special Contributor

Diana Hall has always been sentimental about objects that conjure up memories of the past.
"I save everything," she says, laughing about a jaunty hat she wore decades ago, which is still tucked away at home. "I have my 34-year-old son's toys when he was little, all the kids' paperwork, stubs from restaurants when we were dating. I just have emotional ties to things."
Diana, now 60, also has fond memories of her 1966 amber-glow Mustang, which her father bought for her when it was brand new. She slowly paid him back, $50 a week.
A few years later, in January 1969, Diana met a man named Lloyd at a bowling alley. "He had the biggest blue eyes I ever saw," she recalls. "He was such a sincere person. I had complete trust in him from the very beginning."
"We hit it off right away, both of us," says Lloyd, now 63. "We started dating a week later."
Diana and Lloyd, a dad to two girls, were married later that year. The car was decorated by their friends with shaving cream and transported them to their honeymoon.
"We brought two of our kids home from the hospital in it," Lloyd adds. "It was just a big part of our lives for a long time."
The couple, who lived in Oak Cliff for 32 years before moving to Midlothian, added three children to Lloyd's two daughters. In 1980, their kids had turned teenagers and began to drive, and the Mustang suffered a wreck.
"We got it fixed, but we'd kind of outgrown it," Lloyd says. "We got rid of it."
But later, "she hated that we sold the car," Lloyd says of his wife. "But we weren't fortunate enough back then to have a whole lot of money."
In the late '90s, Lloyd endured a series of health issues, starting with a shoulder operation to remove bone spurs.
"I couldn't use my arm at all," he says, adding that it took about 25 weeks to heal. Diana "took care of me that whole time, and never one time ever did she complain about anything."
In 1999, Lloyd had back surgery again for bone spurs, and on Dec. 27 of that year, he had a heart attack, requiring an eventual bypass operation. Around the same time, they dealt with the death of their parents. Put everything together, "and it's something that could tear you apart," he says. "But it didn't; it only brought us closer."
Diana says Lloyd often showed his appreciation for her support. "One day at work, he sent me flowers after his surgery: 'Thank you for being a wonderful nurse,'" says Diana, who is a teacher's assistant for the Dallas Independent School District. She shrugs off her part in his recovery: "We love each other and care for each other, so you do what you need to do."
Still, Lloyd refused to forget. "I kind of made a promise to myself that if I had the chance to do something really nice for her, I was going to do it."
He'd often thought of trying to find her old Mustang and restoring it. A mechanic by trade – he owns an alignment shop in Oak Cliff – fixing up cars "has kind of been my passion." But there was one problem: He no longer had the car's VIN number to find it.
In January 2006, as the family planned for their youngest daughter's wedding, "we were going through a bunch of old pictures, and a piece of paper just fell out from behind one of them," Lloyd says. "Gee whiz, it was the receipt from when the car was wrecked, and it had the VIN number on it."
Lloyd had what he needed. He found that the last registration on the Mustang was in 2002, to an owner who lived just 10 minutes away.
He drove to the address, "and sure enough, the car was sitting in the back yard by the alley." He left a note inside the mailbox with his phone number, asking if the car was for sale.
The man wasn't interested in selling. Still, he called back out of curiosity, wondering why Lloyd wanted that particular car. Lloyd told him the story, and they eventually worked out a trade: Lloyd would hand over another 1966 Mustang he owned, which was already in mint condition, in exchange for Diana's car.
He then moved it to his shop and started working. "It was pretty rough," he says of the car, which didn't even run at the time. "It needed total restoration."
On Nov. 11 of last year, Lloyd planned what he said was a birthday party for himself at the couple's home. Diana "really thought it was my birthday party," he says, chuckling. "Although nobody brought any presents or anything."
As they sat down for dinner, Lloyd said the prayer, mentioning a project he'd been working on for six months. "I thought, 'What in the world is he praying about?'" Diana says.
Afterward, he started to make a speech, "and then I got a lump in my throat," Diana recalls. "He said, 'I'd been telling you I was going to write you a love song, but I found out real quick that I couldn't write you one. But I could build you a love song."
They then walked her outside, where the Mustang – looking good as new -- was parked.
"There was my car," she says. The memory makes her teary-eyed again, and not so much about the Mustang. "It's the time and work and the effort he'd put into it. It just meant so much to me."
They've since taken the car around town, but they keep their trips local because it's not as highway-friendly as their other vehicles. "And it's not as easy to get in and out of as it was back then," she says with a laugh.
Diana says keepsakes like her new/old Mustang are simply reminders of the things that matter. "I feel like I've had everything I've ever wanted: a loving husband, wonderful children, family and friends," she says. "That's all a person needs."

This one was done in a bullet-point style, which was what the paper did for awhile before going back to a straight story. Just wanted to provide options. :)

By DARLA ATLAS
Special Contributor

Single for 16 years, Nancy Miller of Grand Prairie was quite content with her life. In fact, she jokingly assumed that her next boyfriend "would be a Kirby vacuum cleaner man, because he'd have to come to my door."
Last year, she decided to get in shape with a friend by going on bike rides at Joe Pool Lake. One day last March, as she unloaded her bicycle, a man named Scott Sutton walked up with quite the proposition.

Pedal pushing: Scott, a driver for J.B. Hunt Transport, asked if Nancy and her friend would like to join him and his pals from the Texas Wheels Race Club on their jaunt, which would take them through Cedar Hill, Midlothian and Venus. "I was looking to ride my bike maybe six miles; he offered 70," says Nancy, an executive assistant at Celanese. "Somehow I held it together and said, 'No thank you, we have other plans!" Although their conversation lasted for only two minutes, Scott says he was intrigued. "She just looked like she was really alive; her eyes were bright and she was smiling. I knew she was one of the most special women I had ever seen. I just had to track her down."

Getting to know you: After getting Nancy's e-mail from "a friend who called up a friend who knew her" from the Lone Star Cyclists club, Scott got in touch and invited her to ride with him on his tandem bike. "I tried my best to explain that I was an unworthy choice, a novice rider," she says. But he persisted, asking her things like what kind of pedals she liked. "Blue?" she answered. What kind of seat did she prefer? "A tractor seat sounds nice." Nancy, who has three grown children, told her son – another avid rider -- about Scott's interest. "Everybody knows Scott," she says, "so he said, 'Mom, don't ride with him. He'll have you racing.'"

The first 'date': Finally, Nancy agreed to go on a tandem ride, on Easter Sunday last year. It was cold – snowing not far off, in Fort Worth -- and the wind was blowing hard. Still, they pushed off. "I leaned to the right, he leaned to the left, and somehow the bike stayed on the dam," she says. But after two miles in the cold, Nancy's eardrum burst: "Stuff started running down my neck." Rather than tell him about the pain she was in, Nancy just said she wanted to go back to the parking lot. "It was an unfortunate attempt at a date that didn't quite work," Scott says. Little did he know that she went straight from the park to the hospital.

Try, try again: Scott, in the dark about why Nancy had abruptly left, says he was confused but not discouraged. The two kept in touch via e-mail, and Nancy finally opened up. "During this period, my mother had a heart attack, so I couldn't see him for awhile," she says. "I e-mailed him and let him know what had happened, and what happened to me. He said, 'Let's ride again.' The next time, it was perfect, and we started riding every Sunday."

Biking off into the sunset: After several months of friendship, the two realized they had something more. "It wasn't an overnight thing at all," she says. "We just found that we were just made for each other. It evolved." The two were married on Valentine's Day of this year in Van, Texas. "I told him I wasn't going to marry him unless we left the church on the tandem bike in full wedding dress and tux," Nancy says. "I'd never seen anybody do that before." As they trekked four miles to the reception hall, "everybody laughed, we laughed, everybody honked. It was just the best part of the day."

The happy couple: So what are their plans for the future? "The short answer is we're going to live happily ever after," says Scott, who is proud that he was so persistent with her. "I knew she was special," he adds. "Normal obstacles weren't going to slow me down much." The two, who go bike-riding together four times a week, "have learned to be a very good team on the tandem," Nancy says. And she has advice for other singles on the market: Just get out there. "I was just a girl taking my bike out of the trunk to enjoy the day with my friend," she says, "and I met the love of my life."

One more bullet-esque story:

By DARLA ATLAS
Special Contributor

When Mary Glasco first fell in love with Mike Mason, he was oblivious to her googly-eyed adoration. But that’s probably because he was 8.
The two, who grew up in Greenville, Texas, were best buddies for years. They rode their bikes to school together, studied at her house together (or, they say, she studied and he played with her Etch-A-Sketch), and passed notes during church. Now both 55, Mary and Mike recall the winding, bumpy road that eventually reunited the couple as constant companions.

The evidence: Mary’s mom, who was the church secretary, cleaned up the pews and kept the notes she found between Mary and Mike. She also kept their valentines and cards, a fact that Mary didn’t find out until 1996, when her mother passed away. “In seventh grade, I wrote up this thing about him that talked about ‘this guy I’m so crazy about,’” Mary says. “I wrote it in about four-inch letters and colored it. I had no idea she’d kept those things.”

Parting ways: After high school, the two went to college in separate towns and lost touch. Mary eventually wed an Army man and moved to Germany. Mike, meanwhile, also got married, going to work at Texas Instruments. Although she had her new life, Mary kept in touch with Mike’s parents: “I was crazy about his mom and dad. If my mom could have picked anybody to be my in-laws, it would have been Mike’s parents.”

Catching up: About 18 years ago, the two met for dinner when Mary stopped by Greenville on business. “We were both divorced, in between marriages,” Mike says. “We had a real nice evening, but I was dating someone for almost three years, so nothing came of that.” Still, Mary remained impressed with her childhood crush. “He turned out to be someone so full of integrity, with such a sense of humor. I knew he was still the guy I thought he was.”

Support system: A few years ago, Mike’s father passed away after a terminal illness. Mary attended the funeral, and the two bonded once again. “He made a beeline for me when he saw me,” she recalls, adding that by that time, they’d both been divorced twice. “It was a real hard time for both of us.”

Stirring memories: About a year after his dad’s funeral, Mary decided to attend her high-school reunion. Mike hadn’t planned on going, but did decide to stop by for a breakfast gathering with old friends. “Something just kept telling me that I should go,” he says.
Mary had put together a scrapbook of her and Mike’s old notes, “but I was very hesitant to let him see it. I expected him to be really embarrassed,” she says. “But he wasn’t.” The two talked at breakfast, then went to his mom’s house and caught up through lunch. “We kept talking until I realized, ‘Wow, it’s suppertime!” Mary says.
“It was like we just picked up where we had left off,” Mike says. “We had this bond our whole lives.”

Decision time: Mike then found himself in a quandary. “I had already decided after my second marriage ended that I was never going to have another relationship again,” he says. “I was going to be an old bachelor.” But after seeing Mary again, “I could not get her out of my mind.” Ten days passed before he decided to take the leap again. He emailed Mary with the subject line reading, “It was so good to see you.” “I couldn’t get that thing open fast enough,” Mary says with a laugh.

Soulmates: Mike proposed to Mary just three months after their reunion, under an Austin moon tower. “Instead of a ring, he gave me his Cub Scout ID bracelet,” she says. “He got that the year we’d met.” The two, who wed on Oct. 2, 2004, now live in Garland with Mike’s teenage son. Mary works for the state controller, while Mike is with Raytheon.
“Mary’s smile has not changed a bit since she was 8 years old, and that twinkle in her eye is exactly the same as it was back then,” Mike says. As for Mary, “I still see that mischievous 8-year-old.” Mike laughs and adds, “The problem is, that 8-year-old has lost a lot of his hair.”

Fate’s role: Mary believes that “it was part of God’s plan” that her mom would keep their notes all of those years. “I don’t have valentines from all the other boys in elementary school, but she kept Mike’s,” she says. “I don’t even have the notes I wrote to my best friend.”

Happily ever after: “After some of the things we’ve been through over the last however many years, I don’t think I expected to find anyone to love me like she does,” Mike says. Trust plays a huge role in their relationship, Mary adds: “We really needed that, and we found it with each other.”


The couple below was so sweet (and stunningly beautiful). This story revealed a bit more about them -- meaning their decision to remain "pure" before marriage -- but that was something they felt was important. I do not go around asking such things. :)

By DARLA ATLAS
Special Contributor

At first, David Biedma was excited about spending the summer of 2002 in the United States, working at a church day camp for kids. But then he had second thoughts.
"I got really scared," says David, now 25, who is from Malaga, Spain. "I didn't speak English and realized I would not be able to communicate."
But when he tried to back out to his church leaders, "they said they'd already paid for the ticket." So off he went, showing up for duty at First Baptist Church of McKinney. It didn't take him long to notice fellow volunteer Sarah New, who was a member there.
The first time I saw her, she gave me an impression of an innocent, pure girl, so she caught my attention right away," he says.
The two worked together with the same group of kids, sometimes leading songs onstage. Although there was a serious language barrier – he spoke a few words of English, she knew only basic Spanish phrases – they somehow clicked. Sarah was struck not only by David's looks and personality, "but he also smelled really good," she says. "I know that sounds crazy."
Eventually, she decided to act on her feelings.
"My mom always taught me not to pursue the guy, that the guy pursues the girl," says Sarah, 23. "But he would not come up to me, so I walked up to him and basically said, 'Do you like me?'"
His reply: "I love you."
"She looked at me like, 'What are you talking about?'" he recalls with a laugh. "In Spain, we use the same verb for both, so it was really funny."
David's English rapidly improved as they got to know each other. By the time the two-month camp was over, a serious romance had bloomed.
"When I left her, my heart literally had a physical ailment. It hurt," he says. To keep her memory alive, "I got the same French perfume she wore and put it on my pillow, so I could go to bed and remember her smell."
"It was very hard," Sarah says of the separation. "But we talked on the phone and did the Internet; pretty much every single day, we talked."
What made her fall for him? "He's very romantic, and he's also really a serving type of guy," she says. "He's always wanting to do things for me. But probably the most important thing that directed me to him was his Godly character and spirituality. That was what I was looking for."
The two are open about the fact that "we've stayed pure," Sarah says. "I know it's kind of a rare thing. But I think it's good testimony for other people that you can, too."
In Spain, "a lot of people live together and they have sex; they don't care," David adds. "When I'd tell them, 'My girlfriend and I are pure,' they used to joke about it and make fun of me. But I think, 'You're jealous of me. It's something you're not going to be able to do.'"
The two reunited the following summer, and again the next. In 2005, Sarah spent a semester in Spain and got to know his family.
"It wasn't as big of a culture shock as I thought it would be," she says. "I loved his family from the very start."
Around the same time, David began the process of applying for a visa to attend college in America. It wasn't easy: "He had to work for a year to save money, because he pays triple the tuition a normal student pays," Sarah says.
Finally, he was accepted at Central Texas College, 20 minutes away from Sarah's school, The University of Mary-Hardin Baylor in Belton. He's studying international commerce, while she plans to be a teacher.
Last Memorial Day, David proposed as the couple sat on the quad of her campus. The wedding is set for May 12 at Sarah's McKinney church.
"I don't like to say I'm necessarily lucky, but I'm so blessed," Sarah says of the way things worked out. "God paved the way for us to be together."
As for the kids they plan to have in the future, "we want them to for sure learn both languages," David says. "We want to teach them diversity, and I think the United States has a lot of it."
David, who hasn't been back to see his family for a couple of years, is still dealing with the immense changes in his life.
"There are times -- after you leave your country, your people, your culture, your language and your food -- when it's hard," he says. "I gave up all of that, but I also got something else that is really important to me."He admits that there are some things he likes about America, and others he could do without. "But I'm happy, because I'm in love."