Love Notes: Mari and Roy

Maricela Perez and Roy Renteria pose for a portrait in their home Friday, March 15, 2013, in Aurora. Perez and Renteria met in 1986 and were married in 1993. (Taylor Glascock, Chicago Tribune)

Roy Renteria remembers when he first spotted Maricela "Mari" Perez, a nursing student at Aurora University: It was 1985, and she was perched on one of the floats at the Fiestas Patrias parade, part of a September festival celebrating Mexican Independence Day.

"That was my first vision of my beautiful wife," recalls Roy, 57, seated with Mari, 47, in their Aurora home.

Still, a year would pass before a mutual friend would introduce them. They started out as casual acquaintances — so casual that Mari even teased him, she remembers, saying, "Someday, we should date!"

But the joke lost its comic overtones within a few months, when, as Roy puts it, "We started to see we had some chemistry."

Roy, a second-generation Mexican-American, quickly discovered, however, that their chemistry was no match for Mari's parents.

Like Roy, the Perez family had ties to Guanajuato, Mexico. Unlike him, they had strict rules about courtship, which they expected their seven children to obey. After a few friendly phone exchanges, Roy was invited to attend 6:30 p.m. Saturday Mass with Mari and her family.

That was it. Roy was not allowed in the house, and the two can still recall sitting on the front porch for one hour after many Saturday Masses.

"Being a professional and more Americanized, I wondered what I was getting into," Roy admits. "But my heart told me to stay."

Mari marveled at Roy's patience. "I knew he was in love with me since day one," she admits with a laugh. "But still, he respected my parents' traditions."

Finally, after a year, Mari's parents loosened their grip. A little.

"We had more freedom," Roy explains, "but sometimes her younger brother had to chaperon."

It wasn't the only challenge in their relationship. Roy was working two jobs, one in the circulation department of a west suburban newspaper, the other in the kitchen at a local restaurant. He was young and ambitious, and in love.

"The world was in front of me — except for her," he says. "I just thought I had to try. No other girl out there could hold a candle to her."

Mari was struggling in a different way. She had gotten her first nursing job, in the oncology unit at Loyola University Medical Center in Maywood, which included some night shifts. The work was demanding, and she felt pressures.

"I didn't know what I wanted," she says. "I hadn't dated a lot. I had a tough first nursing job. I felt like I was in over my head."

Roy, certain they had a future together, began working on a new goal: studying to become a Catholic like Mari. He was midway through the process when he got the call. Mari told him she was moving to Mexico.

"I needed space," she says now.

She also told Roy she didn't want him to wait.

Roy tried hanging on to the hope that they would get back together, but after six months he gave up. He kept busy and began dating other women. He completed his religious training and was baptized.

Nearly two years passed. Then Roy learned that Mari was back in town — and engaged to another, a man from Mexico.