Stanford. West Point. Harvard. Treehouse guests Kim and Brendan do not lack for education. They met in middle school and were friends all through high school. Good enough friends to go to the senior prom together. Good enough friends to stay in touch when Brendan went off to West Point. Such good friends, in fact, that when he came home one summer, they reconnected.
And they fell in love.
They were married in a ceremony at West Point, Brendan handsome in his military uniform. West Point means a five-year commitment for service in the Army, but a medical problem earned him a discharge. When Kim got a job at Stanford, he earned a graduate degree there. When she got a job at the Harvard Business School, he enrolled for an MBA. He’ll be doing an internship this summer and has job possibilities lined up. If they have to relocate from Boston, Kim is okay with that. She rolls with whatever comes along. She’s committed to Brendan for better or worse.
Even when worse is just a sprained an ankle.
A few days before they arrived, Brendan was playing basketball and came down wrong on his foot. We sat him down and gave him an ice pack. When he took off his sock, I could see the ankle was purple and swollen. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll be fine.” Which meant that he’d get up into the treehouse loft somehow and that he’d manage to navigate Fern Forest and surroundings for three days. With Kim’s help, he did.
Kim drove them to Shelburne Farms, where Brendan took her picture cuddling a chicken and petting the lambs. Then a stop at Magic Hat Brewery for samples of the latest brew. Finally to Burlington, where she helped Brendan limp down Church Street for lunch at Halvorson’s followed by a stop at Ben & Jerry’s. A couple scoops of vanilla chocolate chip cookie dough takes away the pain.
It felt like they’d been together longer than the three years they’ve been married. But, then, they’ve known each other nearly all their young lives. So, how do you know at such a young age that he’s The One? For these two, it may have been the comfort level. They grew up near each other. Their parents are friends. They saw each other every day. There are no games, no surprises.
They may not know what the future holds for them, but they know one thing—whatever the future brings, they’ll accept it together.
On Sunday they left us two Harvard Business School mugs, two large bottles of Magic Hat brew, and a feeling that in the midst of the tumult of the world, there is something solid and very right.