Carla was 21, I was 30. We met at The Reston Times newspaper. She did the classifieds, I handled circulation. In about the time it takes to say “I do”, we did, in the living room of a local JP. We immediately moved to a funky little cabin deep in some very remote Ohio woods. Grad school was the justification but “getting to know you” was more like it. After a year without running water or indoor plumbing, we not so reluctantly left the outhouse behind and moved back to Reston, VA, our old stomping grounds. I needed to get busy, find work or lose my mind. Carla pushed me to interview with an air courier company that was moving its headquarters to Reston. That proved to be a crazy ride, ten years, from graveyard shift customer service, to VP and GM of a spin off in DC and one in NYC. 

Eastern shuttle back and forth.

But back to the couch. Ruth didn’t come along for five years, so four of those years were spent, just the two of us, in a one bedroom, ground floor apartment within walking distance of scenic Lake Anne and the place where we first met. 

Full circle. 1978 Sweet times for us.

As children do though, Ruth changed everything. All for the better. Carla discovered her reason for being and never looked back. It was her passion for Ruth, and then Hannah five years later, that was the impetus for her to quit her job, embrace those girls, and hold on tight 24-7 until they both went off on their own. Carla got rid of the TV and home schooled them, unschooled really. 

Countless hours were spent at the library, in a corner nook at the local Goodwill store and in a sticky red vinyl booth at Friendly’s Ice Cream Parlor. Ruth always ordered a big sundae that she didn’t eat while all three read to each other from a huge pile of books that they lugged from here to there.

I may have been the breadwinner in those days, but Carla was the real star. 

She showed those girls how to be the smart, strong, successful, independent women that they are today, just like Mom.