https://fixitman22.wordpress.com/2026/02/22/before-russia/

A Life Put on Hold

 I didn’t start looking for a wife in another country, but that part matters. I was lonely and tired of the same old every day, week, and month. I was open to some new thoughts and ideas about finding love and a wife.

When my marriage ended in 1991, I was out of my home and away from my daughters. Instead of seeing them each morning and tucking them in at night, I was reduced to every other weekend. I rented a one-bedroom apartment while I looked for work.

On the first weekend with the girls, they sat in front of me and said, “Please, Dad, whatever you do, don’t find a girlfriend. Mom has her boyfriend now, and we hate it. Our time together would be ruined. Please?”

What could I say?

For the next 14 years, they were my priority — not dating, not romance, not rebuilding my personal life. I worked, I parented, and I stayed steady. Our weekends were filled with rented movies, shopping at Walmart, and riding our three-wheeler everywhere. My construction business gave me the flexibility to go to their games and have lunch with each of them once a week. The rest of my focus was on earning enough money to make payments on my trailer, pay child support, and be ready for our weekends.

I wasn't lonely. I was focused.

Finding My Footing

 Church became part of that routine, and I found a good one in the next town. The music was wonderful with a live band, and I enjoyed the community. Familiar faces. A place to sit quietly and listen to the Word and grow. By August of 2005, I had become a regular and even sang harmony with the band.

An Old Crush, A Fresh Wound

 Then one Sunday, a woman came in that I had not seen in a long time — longer than she probably realized. We went to the same high school. Back then, she was completely out of my league. I noticed her, admired her from a distance, and carried the harmless desires of a young man who knew better than to act on them. Over the years, our paths crossed occasionally — nothing more than a nod, a smile, or a wave.

Time has a way of reshuffling the deck. She was no longer a memory from high school — she was there, present, familiar, and unfamiliar at the same time. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered.

Two Sundays later, I finally got the nerve to talk to her. She had remembered me, too. As we talked, I told her about my divorce, and she told me about hers. She was visibly bitter and hurt, so I tried to keep the conversation light. Then, without really planning it, I said what I was thinking.

“I had the biggest crush on you in high school. I used to watch you from my friend's house across the street. When I saw you here, all those old feelings came back. Would you like to go out sometime?”

Her expression changed instantly.“I saw you watching our house back then,” she said quietly, but with an edge. “I was relieved when we graduated. No, I don’t want to go on a date with you – not now, not ever.”

The whole exchange lasted maybe 30 seconds, but it felt like the entire church had gone silent. My face felt hot. My heart thudded in my chest. She grabbed her bag and left quickly. I walked out right after, embarrassed and confused.

She Ran

 The following Sunday, she saw me before the service started. And she ran.

She left the main room of the church abruptly. When she returned, she was almost unrecognizable. Her hair was disheveled. Her makeup was gone. A plain cloth flour sack had been pulled over her fancy dress.

I was devastated.

 I didn’t understand what had happened in that moment. Later, I remembered that she had just come through a painful divorce of her own. At the time, all I knew was the shock — not just of rejection, but of how deeply it landed after so many years of keeping my emotions in check.

I stayed for the rest of the service. I always did.

The Program That Shifted Everything

 When I got home, it was around one in the afternoon. I turned on the television more out of habit than intention.

A program had just started. Russian Brides.

I didn’t sit down because I was looking for a foreign wife. I sat down because something in me had cracked open — not in despair, but in honesty. I had just been reminded that the life I thought might still circle back to me… wasn’t going to.

What struck me about the program wasn’t fantasy or escape. It was serious. These were adults — people who had lived lives, disappointments, responsibilities, and families — willing to cross oceans not for novelty, but for commitment.

I watched the entire show. That afternoon didn’t change my life.

But it shifted it.

For the first time in fourteen years, I allowed myself to consider that the next chapter of my life might not come from familiar places or familiar people.

Russia, at that moment, wasn’t a destination.

It was a question.

And questions, when you finally stop avoiding them, have a way of leading you places you never expected to go. I was done avoiding the questions and my self-imposed comfort zone. 

It was time to take a chance.