When Does Life Really Begin?
- andreasachs1
- 2 hours ago
- 6 min read
By Jeffrey Markowitz / Huntington Woods, Mich.
Life started for me long after I was born. I should say that living was what started.
I met Judi Foster in 1968 at Oak Park High School in Oak Park, Mich. I was in my senior year, and she was a sophomore. I was waiting for my next class to begin, and Judi was standing across the hall by the lockers. We made eye contact, and at that very moment I knew the game was on. However, I didn’t know that I was getting out of the gate too late — she had a boyfriend.
As it happened, Judi knew one of my friends and eventually we were introduced. There was an immediate connection of friendship, and I realized she was the one I wanted to spend my years with. My heart told me to stay with the feeling and not let it go.
I settled for our platonic relationship, and we became very close. Talking on the phone late at night, hanging out after school and on the weekends was our usual routine. Judi became my best friend, but I hoped for more!
After I graduated, my next stop was Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti, Mich. Judi and her friends would occasionally visit, and I headed back to my hometown every weekend. I went with my friends to Oak Park’s football and basketball games. Judi was a cheerleader and that was the main reason to attend.
After completing a year at Eastern, I decided that it wasn’t what I’d imagined college life would be. So, I moved back home and enrolled in Wayne State University. What a surprise! I could see Judi more often. And as it turned out, she was headed to Wayne State as well.
Carpools with both of our friends were arranged. It was a fun commute as we drove through scenic Palmer Woods in Detroit as a short cut to campus. We all had early morning classes and similar schedules. I even enrolled in a few of Judi’s classes, which also served to complete requirements for my degree in sociology.
During a sociology lecture, Judi and I would talk incessantly. Finally, the professor called out our names loudly and asked us to step into the hallway. We were embarrassed and also amused because he thought we were married. After the scolding, we laughed about the craziness of his presumption. We vowed to keep our noise down to a minimum for the rest of the semester.
(Years later, I discovered a well-hidden secret about two of my sociology professors: In their classes of approximately a hundred students, everyone received a a passing grade each semester. These well-intentioned instructors wanted to keep students from being drafted and sent to Vietnam. These were acts of true compassion that continued for the duration of the war.)
Judi was on a fast track to graduate from the College of Education in three years. She enrolled in six classes a semester and even took classes scheduled for the same time slot only appearing for the midterm and final exams. Since she was on campus crazy hours, I would get on my motorcycle to bring her a late lunch.
As time passed, a spark ignited and our relationship changed. Judi and I became a lot closer than I ever would have thought possible. It actually put me into shock. But that was short lived. A brief time later, Judi became engaged to her high-school boyfriend. I was pissed off, to say the least. I was genuinely surprised, since I thought we were headed in the right direction.
I was close to Judi’s parents and siblings. Contemplating the loss of their friendship was also disturbing. Surprisingly, Judi’s mother told me to break up the wedding plans.
I immediately thought of the scene in the 1967 film The Graduate, starring Dustin Hoffman and Katharine Ross. Like in the movie, I envisioned myself pounding on the synagogue windows, shouting out Judi’s name in an effort to stop the marriage. It was a fantasy that never came to fruition.
Life then became somewhat depressing for me. I needed to get back in the game. I was living in an apartment complex with five swimming pools, and I became friendly with one of the lifeguards. She asked me to go to a football game.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the cards. On the way to the game, I had a terrible car accident. I ran into a huge, exposed drainpipe that was above ground due to erosion. I rolled my Corvette four times and the roof came off. One of the pins that held the roof in place clipped my head. Somehow, I survived the collision, receiving 90 stitches.
A few days later, after soul-searching, I realized that I needed a change in my life. So, I decided to move to California to escape. I had friends living there and wanted to leave memories of my life behind, especially those of Judi.
However, every day I would wake up and feel a magnetic pull in my heart to return to Oak Park. After a year living down on the beach with other Oak Parkers and working at an electrical supply house in the San Fernando Valley, I’d had enough.
I moved back in with my parents until I could find a place of my own. While chipping golf balls across the street to a neighbor’s tree, a car pulled up along the curb. I had no idea who it was until the window rolled down. I heard a familiar voice say, “Hi Jeffrey.” It was Judi. After some small talk, I could feel my heart pounding again.
Fast forward, I bought a house in Southfield, Mich. and had settled there comfortably for years when the call came. It was Judi and she told me she had gotten divorced. It was nearly 20 years in the making. My response— “What the f*** took you so long?”
Shortly after, we picked up our relationship again, but it was on the slow track. Judi had four children — one with special needs. Lindsay, her oldest, had an extremely rare condition known as Marshall-Smith Syndrome. She had cognitive and physical challenges. I didn’t know what to expect.
After dating for four months, I looked forward to meeting the kids. Honestly, I was a bit nervous. Todd, Chad, and Eli ranged in age from 6 to 14 years old. Lindsay was 15. I had little or no experience with children, especially one who required extra time and attention.
Remarkably, when I met the crew, it seemed like a natural fit. I was invited to dinners, then multiple athletic games for the boys, and I even began to help them with their homework assignments. I truly connected with Lindsay, as we both became closer and comfortable with each other.
Finally, after three and a half years with the family, my probation period was over. I asked Judi to marry me. My parents and friends thought I was certifiably crazy. I knew better.
I now have a full plate with nine grandchildren and a family that keeps growing. It would have been a solitary life if not for that phone call 32 years ago. Having a purpose and a partner was the key. Judi and the kids were a gift and life itself.
After a 30-year career in construction management, building commercial and residential jobs, Jeffrey has turned to his passion–cooking. He is the master of the grill and has been nicknamed Chef Jeff by his family. Jeffrey also started a small catering business. Nothing makes him happier than satisfying his customers He enjoys sports and has spent 65-plus years playing golf, competing with friends, playing the course and trying to keep his head in the game for all 18 holes. He is the husband of Judi Markowitz. They have four adult children and nine grandchildren who keep them on their toes. Oh yeah, let’s not forget George, their Bernese Mountain granddog.