I've been feeling a bit nostalgic lately. Maybe its a little homesickness. Maybe its the changing seasons and the cooler weather. Either way, in the spirit of nostalgia, I thought I would write down a few memories this week. I'll begin with the day I met Dave.
To say I was boy-crazy would be the understatement of the century. I liked dating, and was more comfortable around boys than most girls, so naturally I was a flirt. And I liked it.
The Summer of 2004 would be my last summer at home, though I didn't know it at the time. It was an idyllic summer. I dated, worked, took an missionary prep course, and trained for a half marathon. I still had almost a year til I could serve a mission, but it was definitely something I wanted to do. I had life planned out: finish my associate's degree, serve a mission (Spanish speaking, preferably), transfer to BYU to finish my Bachelor's degree and buy a cell phone and a motorized scooter. Of course, marriage could find me after that. Perhaps one of my missionary friends who by then would have more schooling done.
I think God must laugh when we make plans for ourselves.
September took me back up to Rexburg. Then back down to Pocatello for my half marathon one weekend, then back up to Rexburg. One evening I walked into my apartment after a run, wearing, naturally, work out clothes with my hair in a pony-tail. I glanced around the room and spotted the only person I didn't know.
He was tall, cute, and seemed so at ease sitting in my roommate's burgundy corner chair.
"I don't know you!" I guess I like to state the obvious.
"I'm Dave," he said, with a smile. I instantly liked his easy manners. We spent a few minutes in small talk, which revealed that he served his mission in Chile.
He speaks Spanish
If ever there was a way for a guy to solidify himself into my memory it was to be Spanish-speaking returned missionary. But then I got a phone call from a friend and I flitted into the other room to chat. I flitted a lot those days. Though I didn't see much of him for a couple months, I definitely remembered him.
I guess the rest is history. Or a blog post for another day. We'll see.
4 comments:
Oh, how cute! And how fitting that I'm the first one to comment, beings as how I owned the red burgundy corner chair that seated your husband to be on that memorable night, and SO many others afterwards! :) He probably got more use out of that thing than we ever did! :) its fun to hear you're story and to remember just want the apartment looked like and just hear you say in my head "I don't know you." It all floods back to my like it was yesterday! How fun! I love having good friends that you can always remember good times with! Glad you two ended up tying the knot and that I got to be around for it all. AND I'm glad you got your Spanish speaking returned missionary. :)
I'm so glad that David sat in that chair. You were always a part of our family, we were just waiting to find you. PS did you ever get a copy of Glen Beck's Overton Window? I am on chapter 2 and reading very slowly so you can catch up easily.
awwww, what a cute little memory! I want to hear the rest of the story :)
We got married.
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