The teacher said he wants each of his engaged students to reflect on the moment they knew that he/she was "the one."
I had to start thinking. Its' been so long, but it feels like it was not so long ago. I knew my husband for many years, since we were little 14 year olds, young and immature. He claims he knew from the first that I was perfect for him. I wasn't so fast.
The years flew by, and in high school I'd avoid the corner he and his friends hung out during lunch, because for some reason, I felt embarrassed when he saw me with another boys arm around my waist. He was just a friend!
We graduated high school, and went to a 3 day stake youth conference. Looking back, I think that's where things started to change. We spent hours talking, we went together for the Y hike (hiking to the Y near BYU campus), and I grew very fond of him.
That Christmas he gave me a pair of moccasins. He'd convinced my sister to get my foot size, and he made me leather moccasins, which I wore a lot.
He left on his mission in July, 2001, and I put the moccasins, and a few remnants from that youth conference, and the program from his farewell, in a box and sealed it. Along with it I tried to seal his memory.
But it didn't work. We wrote back and forth. He wrote me a short one page letter every week. I think he missed 3 weeks his entire mission. He told me how things were going there, and sent pictures. And I wrote ... not as faithfully. Sometimes a month would go between letters, but when I felt like writing, I'd write. And I'd write whatever was on my mind. I soon learned to keep the letters to 5 pages, (or 3 pages and one picture), because any more than that took another stamp. But there were days I'd send a five page letter, only to put another in the mail the next day. Rumor has it that he got teased for that on his mission. But what missionary doesn't appreciate long letters from home.
About a year after he left, I missed those moccasins so badly I pulled them out of storage and started wearing them again. They reminded me of him, but they were so comfortable.
The next spring, near valentines his sister got engaged. They hadn't told him yet, so I didn't mention anything in my letters. Conference weekend I met the fiance, and I happened to mention it in a letter to him. After all, she'd been engaged for two months!
Oops ... they hadn't told him. They wanted to wait for mothers day. Just a month before the wedding. So I accidentally broke the news ... the letter I got back was something like, "are you sure she's getting married?"
June came, and he came home. He was still "just a friend," I never thought of him as more than that. He was just a friend, and always had been. we hung out a little bit, and talked a lot. 2 weeks after he came home was his "not a homecoming" talk in church. I was listening to him talk, and I realized something ... I loved this man. Not sort of, I really loved this man. And I couldn't imagine forever with anybody else.
As tears leaked from my eyes, I realized I'd loved him for a long time, and I just hadn't admitted it to myself.
A week later we were engaged, July 2nd, I was driving him home, as we'd gone on a walk that morning. We sat in the front seat of the car talking for the longest time and he asked about my plans to go on a mission. Then asked what I'd think if he asked me to marry him.
Six months to the day later, we got married in the Idaho falls temple. We have our disagreements on occasion. But I love him, and always will.
and after we got engaged, I did ask him to patch the holes I'd worn in my moccasins. He's replaced the soles 3 times since then. Even now, occasionally when I look at him, my heart skips a beat, and I remember how lucky I am to be married to this man.
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