Catherine’s only contribution to the entire web site —
The story of how we met…
On March 11, 2007, I arrived in Big Sky, Montana, alone, with a heavy heart.
I was finally at the resort that Ski Magazine had just featured as one of the places you need to hit before you die, but it wasn’t where I wanted to be. My mother Valerie was in the hospital.
To understand and fully appreciate the context of our initial meeting, you have to understand the back story and circumstances that we meet under.
At the end of January, my mother had suddenly fallen very ill. She received medication, and seemed to get better — or at least her symptoms were greatly reduced. My mother spent the next month encouraging and persuading me to go on this particular trip — definitely more than she would have, had she not been ill. Of course, being the woman that she is, My Pal Val did not want her illness to stand in the way of a life experience; so she pushed for me to go. She seemed better, so I was on board for the trip. Everything was set until I went to Hamilton, to spend the day with my mother, before I was scheduled to fly out. To my absolute shock, my mother was admitted to the hospital, for the second time. My father and brothers insisted that I go on the trip as planned, and assured me that within a day or two she would be home, back to her old self and very upset if I canceled. I agreed and left, with a heavy heart for what proved to be the vacation that changed the trajectory of my life.
I met Marc the first day I arrived in Big Sky. He introduced himself —
- " Hallo, I am Marc (said with thick accent) from Atlanta. "
- " Marc with a C or K? "
- " C "
- " What’s your family name? "
- " Bernard "
- " Tu parles français? "
- " No. German. "
- " How do you have the most French name in the world? "
- " The Huguenots "
And that was the end of our first encounter. Perhaps more was said, but I can’t remember. Marc said that he noticed my nose and was interested right from the start. I was just impressed with his answer. The Huguenots. Marc always has THE best answers.
The next day, I showed up late for lunch. I took the only free seat — someone had just left. I didn’t remember that I was sitting beside Marc until I later saw a picture. My mind was on my mother.
Later that evening, a few new friends suggested going out for a drink. Marc and I sat together and talked while everyone else played pool. He was interesting and I was intrigued.
The days during that week were spent on the most incredible mountains — with very few people, not great snow, but blue skies and empty chairlifts. It is easy to be authentic in the nature. Nature is incapable of bullshit. I thought about my life, my mother, the present moment — I was shed of all the dating affectations (oh did I have them as many of my inner circle peeps can attest to). In the most literal and metaphorical sense, it was a week that changed my life.
The following night a group of us went out for a dinner and Marc sat next to me. At the time, I thought he worked for Coca Cola (only weeks later did he clarify this for me) but I did see the importance of sharing my dislike for Pepsi. I let him know that it is a pet peeve of mine to order a beloved Diet Coke (yes — I know it is bad for you. Only one per day) and then get served a Diet Pepsi. It is NOT the same thing. I told him that if I order a Diet Coke and I get a Pepsi, I send the Pepsi back. It is like ordering milk and getting cream instead. Close, but not the same. Marc liked that I wasn’t a Pepsi drinker. It is one of the things that bond us still today. Despite the fact that we were out with a big group of follow skiers and riders, I felt like we were on a date — just the two of us.
The next night we were at a resto that turned into a karaoke bar (pleasant surprise). I couldn’t get the microphone quick enough. Someone was impressed…
The following day we took the day off skiing and went dog sledding. So fun.
Marc then wanted me to show him how to work a Blackberry. He said he forgot his charger and wanted me to provide some instructions on how to use the thing. I showed him how to play brick breaker and use the instant messenger feature. At the time I didn’t think anything of it — I thought he was a Coke employee, not a fancy pants computer guy — suuuuure Marc didn’t know how to work the phone. The Blackberry was his angle. (Comment from Marc: Honestly, I had gotten my Blackberry just days before. It was so new to me that I even forgot to bring the charger.)
On our second to last day, Marc came with me out on the mountains. The conditions weren’t great and our legs were spent, so I officially decided to take it easy that day. I thought that it must be love for Marc to spend the day with me on blues than with the experts on the double blacks.
We never talked about the future, but when I got back to Toronto, I began to wonder if our vacationship would become a relationship. Who knew?
During one of our phone conversations the week of our return, he told me that I should be in Atlanta. I said, OK and the next thing I knew I was cashing in my points and was on my way to Atlanta less than three weeks after our good byes in Montana. Marc came to Toronto a few weeks after that. We decided on his second visit that we were both willing to travel once a month. Trust me when I say I heard everything. Georgia? Long distance? Where are you going to live? You can’t work in the states. Things are going to change when you see each other every week. Can’t you find anyone in Toronto? Clearly not. People kept telling me/reminding me that long distance is HARD. Actually, with Marc, it wasn’t. It was effortless. The worst part was that on a few occasions I had to fly solo to some fun events, but other than that, everything with Marc was easy peasy. It still is.
And that my dear readers, is how we met, fell in love and carved out our relationship over the past 18 months and now we are engaged to be married.
Both our mothers officially take credit for everything. Marc’s mother insisted he go to Montana as well. Obliviously we owe everything to them.
