The Beginning

Six years ago, I returned home from my mission to the Baltic States. (Has it really been that long?) Since I had graduated from college before I left on my mission and my parents moved while I was gone, I came home to a whole lot of...nothing. No job, no friends, and no plans--except to get a job and find some friends. The benefit to coming home to nothing is that the world is, at that moment, full of hope and possibilities.

Being used to mission life, I dug in and got going. I started attending the singles' ward in my new stake and began to make many friends. In fact, Elizabeth, (my former mission companion), and I started attending every possible ward activity. As is typical with most wards, there was a core group of kids that also attended every possible activity--and we started getting to know them all better. Within 3 months after returning home, I started dating someone. The relationship had a LOT of ups and downs and it felt like life just shouldn't be that complicated. Between this relationship and my job hunt, the ups and downs were becoming quite exhausting. And then November rolled around.

To celebrate the two year anniversary of the beginning of my mission, the guy I had been dating broke up with me. One week later, one of the guys from that core group of kids called to see if I wanted to get a group together to go shooting, like we had recently talked about doing at one of the many ward activities. This particular young man was one who had caught my interest a few times over the previous weeks, so I was more than happy to go. It was my job to get a group together. But, knowing that I wanted to get to know this young man better, I called one person, (whom I knew couldn't go), invited my younger brother, and decided that was enough. When we went on the shooting excursion a few days later, I made sure that this young man knew I was currently available.

A few days later, the core group got together to head to the desert and watch a meteor shower in the middle of the night. It turned out that this young man and I were both underprepared for the cold temperatures--but somehow ended up on a big, thick foam pad under a nice warm blanket. As we watched for shooting stars, we talked. And talked. And talked. I had such a great time talking to him that night. I hoped he did too.

It soon became obvious that he also enjoyed talking with me, as he called me up the very next day to ask me out for that weekend. As luck would have it, I woke up the day before our date deathly ill. I spent the entire day in bed, resting up, and hoping it was a 24-hour bug. By that evening, I wasn't feeling much better. Out of all of the dates I'd been on in my life, this was one that I wanted to go on more than almost anything in the world. I HAD to be well enough to go the next night. So, I asked my dad for a blessing. (Little did I know at the time that this young man was also deathly ill and also requested a blessing in order to go on the date.) By Friday night, armed with our determination and DayQuil, this young man and I went on our first date.

Two weeks later, we were officially a couple. A few days later, chatting by the glow of Christmas tree lights, we talked about our future together. I was scared to death to admit that this was it, although I knew in my heart that my single life was quickly drawing to a close. I remember telling this young man that I knew we had a future together, I just wasn't sure what that meant. When he went home to Seattle for Christmas break, we talked daily. I had never wanted to be with someone so much in my life. One night, we talked until the wee hours of the morning. That night, he told me he was never going home again without me. That was also the night we decided what our future together meant to both of us: marriage. I remember the "Oh my goodness--this is IT" feeling I had when I told my mom the next day that I was getting married.

The day after he came back from Seattle, we went ring shopping. Three weeks later, he proposed to me in the Salt Lake temple. Four months after that, and six months and one day after our first date, we were married in the Mt. Timpanogos temple. That was 5 years ago.

When I married Ryan, I knew I was getting a good guy. After all, up to that point, without any prompting, hinting, or requesting from me, he had done all of the things that I had always wanted a boy to do for me. But, the past five years have shown me how incredibly lucky I am. He does everything in his power to make sure that I am happy and well cared for. On top of all of that, he is truly my best friend. I honestly don't know how I got a guy who is so perfect for me! I look forward to the rest of forever with him! Happy Anniversary, Ryan!