The night when lightning struck

September has always been a special month for my husband and me.

My favorite September was in 2011. I was 23 years old working as a second-year teacher in the same school that I currently teach. I had a terrible day and was really burnt out and just wanted to go home. My friend and I went to my favorite Mexican restaurant after school and one margarita later, we ran into another friend who made me forget everything about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It was decided that we were going to go out that evening with a guy that my teaching partner was dating at a bar on the east side of Indianapolis. Spoiler alert: she ended up marrying and having two kids with the guy, but that’s a few years down the road from this story.

Several hours later, we rolled up to a local east side dive bar. I was not an eastsider, so to me it was just a neighborhood dive bar that seemed to have a lot of regulars in an area I was not familiar with. My friend’s boyfriend had mentioned that he had a friend who was single. After we arrived at the bar, he sent his friend a text message saying I was also there.

Being someone who drinks red wine, I was a bit surprised when I went to order a glass and they only had mini bottles in little four-packs – if that gives the reader any idea of the amount of wine sold at this establishment. The wine glass looked like it might have not been used once the entire calendar year. It was more of a darts and beer sort of place and not a wine bar with charcuterie offerings. I had on a casual black dress and a green cardigan sweater.

Here’s the text message from our friend on the night my future husband and I met. (Photo provided by Megan Rathz)

I don’t remember seeing Tim walk into the bar, but I remember looking up and he was standing and talking to my friend’s boyfriend. I remember making eye contact with him and wondering when we were going to be formally introduced because I wanted to talk to him. He had on a gray Colts quarter-zip sweatshirt and jeans with an IU baseball cap. I was immediately taken by him.

When we finally talked, he asked me what I was drinking so he could order me one. I think he must have gotten a kick out of this northside girl coming to a bar that he not only had been going to for many years, but also where he was at one point a bartender, so he knew that red wine was not exactly a weekly special at this place. We talked all night, and as I was about to leave, he asked if he could have my number.

The next weekend, he came to pick me up at my mom’s house. Normally, I would have suggested that we meet at the place we were going just in case he was Jeffrey Dahmer, but I just knew that he wasn’t. Plus I had people who had known him since he was a kid and could verify he had not murdered anyone. I still remember glancing over at him on the drive into Broad Ripple and noticing his lip was sweating. I thought it was so cute that he was actually nervous to be around me. I loved it when he smiled.

He picked me up and took me to Mama Corolla’s, the best Italian restaurant in Indianapolis. I think after making the trek down to the east side, he knew he wanted to take me somewhere nicer than the place we met.

We had the loveliest dinner and talked all night. I think I just kind of knew that it was going to work out with him because when you know, you know.

We had about a 45-minute wait for our table, which I was excited about because it was just more time we could talk. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and I told him to order me a glass of house merlot. We took our wine out to the front courtyard area and sat in chairs for our table getting to know each other. We took up our table way too long and talked the entire night. On the stroll back to the car, he mentioned wanting to go out again. I was so excited because I figured he must’ve had as good of a time as I had if he was thinking about seeing me again. The night ended with a kiss and the rest is really history for the two of us.

The following September 16, he took me to various spots from our first year of dating and gave me a purple rose at each location. It ended on the canal in downtown Indianapolis where he proposed to me.

This September marks 12 years since we met.

I remember when I was little hearing my parents talk about a scene in The Godfather where it is described as a lightning strike when one meets their soulmate. When you know you’ve found yours, it’s undeniable. I don’t know when exactly the lightning struck. It could have been that night we met at the bar, the car ride to dinner, or maybe even when we were sitting out on the chairs talking before our first date, but it struck and I’m more in love with him every single day.

Megan Rathz is a wife, mother, and teacher. She says everything she has ever learned in life came from her Master Gardener mother.