My Life, 5 Year Snapshots (1980 thru 1984)

I sat down at the kitchen table in my tiny apartment and scratched out a budget on a piece of notebook paper and then I wadded it up and started over again on a fresh sheet. I repeated this process three or four times until I was somewhat satisfied with the finished product.

I had never really created a budget before but I figured this exercise would be an important element in convincing Jeana's parents that I was worthy of their daughter's hand in marriage. The truth was that many of the numbers I used were highly speculative... maybe even purposely exaggerated. I figured I was in for an uphill battle. The fact that Jeana was only 18 and wouldn't even turn 19 until after our desired wedding date, added to my list of concerns.

Sitting across the table from Jeana's parents in their home in Ontario, California was an excruciatingly painful experience. I was sweating bullets and my stomach was doing flip flops. This was a mighty big ask! As I suspected, Ray, Jeana's dad, was really focused on the numbers as he stared down at that sheet of notebook paper and quizzed me as though he were an economics professor.

Somehow, I weathered the storm and received the blessing I'd sought from Jeana's parents, although I suspected that they had some serious reservations and I couldn't blame them.

That is how my year started in 1980. With the permission to marry from my future in-laws, my next task was to buy an engagement ring with a budget so low that I seriously prepared myself to be laughed at by the clerk behind the counter. If I remember correctly, I spent around $300 on the ring. Now you're laughing... aren't you!

Engaged in January, married in July and living in relative poverty immediately... without really realizing it. Yes... our phone got shut off due to lack of payment and we seemed to be late every month on our rent but we thought this was the path of every, newly married couple. So we just seemed to roll with it.

One of my highlights during this season of my life was leading a group of teens at church. It was a small group but I really poured myself  into their lives and did my best to mentor them... despite the fact that I'd recently been a teen myself.

I really had a heart for these teenagers, largely because of the struggles I faced as one. Bad home life, dabbling in alcohol and weed, strained relationships and just dealing with typical teenage angst. I had just passed through that phase of life and felt that I was uniquely qualified to help guide them through the struggles they face. And they seemed to respond. I'm sure I made plenty of mistakes but I think they saw my heart and that enabled them to overlook my obvious immaturity and imperfections.

I would end up working with teens over the next 10 years or so and never felt more spiritually and emotionally fulfilled. Part of that work led me to coaching a junior high basketball team of five inner city kids, which I also absolutely loved, despite the fact that we won only one game that season. Coaching got into my blood and I spent the next 40 years coaching many different sports, age groups and genders. I still have a number of individuals refer to me as 'coach' on social media and that always gives me a charge.

I feel like moving was a frequent event in the early years of our marriage. In these first five years of marital bliss, we lived in four different Southern California cities. Actually owning a home wasn't even a dream at that point in our lives. The Southern California housing market was (and *IS*) ridiculously high priced and even with both of us working, our combined income was a mere pittance. 

We started in our small apartment in Downey, which was close to the church we were attending at the time. Less that 2 years later, we moved to an apartment in Norwalk, as we both had accepted jobs at a Christian school near there. The Norwalk apartment had two stories with rugged stairway steps made of concrete and tiny stones. When we found out Jeana was pregnant in late 1981, we didn't feel comfortable with her navigating those steps, so we moved to a nice duplex in Bellflower. We made one more move in 1983 to Jeana's childhood home in Lakewood, which her parents still owned and rented out. Yes... we had to pay them rent but it was significantly lower than they could have charged in that market. We were thankful. We would remain in that house for the next 10+ years.

August 7th, 1982 marked one of the best days in my life as Jeana gave birth to our first child, a girl. (This would become a pattern). "Gender Reveal" parties weren't really a thing back then but even if they were, we wouldn't have participated. We purposely avoided the early gender reveal of all of our kids. We waited until they popped out of the oven to find out. We liked the surprise.

We were able to satisfy three relatives with her name. Maelynne Jean. That's a combination of middle names from my mom, my sister and my mother-in-law. Plus, we loved the uniqueness of the name. 

I was a worry wart father to be sure. This was all new to me and I had no idea what was normal behavior for me and what was considered odd. I would find myself waking up in the middle of the night and feeling compelled to go check on Mae Mae. Make sure she was breathing and stuff.

Maelynne caught a cold when she was four months old and my fretting kicked into overdrive. At about 4AM one morning, I made my way into her bedroom to check on her and she was burning up with fever and struggling to breathe. I went into panic mode.

We loaded her into the car and headed to the emergency room. They took her straight back and the nurse immediately summoned the doctor. He listened to her heart, checked her blood oxygen and listened to her breathing, at which point he looked at us and said, "They go downhill quickly at this age."

I literally sprinted to the bathroom and vomited violently.

Whether it was his intent or not... what I heard was, "Your daughter is going to die."

They decided that she needed to be taken to a nearby Children's Hospital to be admitted and gave us the option of having her go by ambulance or driving her ourselves. I didn't want her out of my sight and so we drove her. They had called our pediatrician and had him meet us at the Children's Hospital.

On that drive to the other hospital, I was introduced to crisis praying. I was promising God everything I could think of... if only he'd spare my precious daughter. I was shook to the core. 

In miraculous fashion, by the time we reached the Children's Hospital, Maelynne had cooled off, perked up and she was breathing normally. The pediatrician checked her out and said that it seemed we were the beneficiary of divine intervention because she wasn't anywhere near as bad as to how she was described to him on the phone. In fact, he said there was no reason to admit her, so, we took her home and thanked God the whole way.

The down side of that story is that I became absolutely paranoid any and every time any of my kids got sick. When a kid got sick... I lost weight because I couldn't eat until they got better. It was an effective diet plan, however, I wouldn't recommend it. I developed a habit when my kids got sick that they all chuckle about these days. I would go to the store and buy them a coloring book and colors, or a doll, or a book. I just wanted to see them perk up instead of just lying there listlessly. I think I did it more for me than for them. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't... but I did that for years and years.

Our Christmas present in December of 1982 was to find out that we had another baby on the way. Well, that was quick! The due date was in August of 1983... the same month that Maelynne was born in 1982. This was not convenient. Two babies in diapers.

We spent many months, fretting about the challenge that lay before us but that worry ended up being a waste of emotional energy. Tara Beth (named after the plantation on "Gone With the Wind") blessed us with her arrival on August 17th, 1983... 10 days after Maelynne's first birthday.

We managed our expanded family just fine and the first two Munson girls became inseparable best friends... and that close bond remains today.

I love sports and have always been highly competitive. The negative events through my high school years served to put a pause on any sort of athletic career but that craving to compete still bubbled within me. 

After a couple summers of pick-up softball games against some area churches, I began to put some structure around the games with set schedules, certified umpires, awards for league champions, etc. I named the organization the "Christian Fellowship Athletic League" (CFAL) and the thing just took off! This league that started off with just men's softball, grew and expanded to basketball, bowling and golf tournaments. It would consume much of my time for over 16 years.

In addition to coaching and playing on my church team, I helped start a team called the Dukes, which rapidly became one of the best teams in the area. I also started a team called the Saints, which was made up largely of the more talented players from the CFAL. The Saints were together for 10 years and helped fill my trophy room at home. 

I lived, slept and breathed softball during these years. I played several nights a week and most weekends. Our closest friends were our players and their wives. I had trouble turning down other teams that wanted me to play for them. I loved the game. I craved the competition. It's a wonder my wife didn't leave me.