5 years ago today I was convincing my Exercise Physiology lab instructor to just let us play games for class that day (instead of our usual grueling Wednesday workout of running our guts out) in celebration of me getting married the next day. Walking into the Fieldhouse that day, everyone kept saying, "What are you doing here? You're getting married tomorrow! Don't you have better things to do?" I did not, in fact. I felt pretty darn prepared. I had at least taken the day off work, which was a big deal for me. But after that last class, I met up with my mom, my good friend Tosha (ie the decorator) and Nate's close friends Colby and Penny to head up the canyon to set up everything for the reception. That night, my best friend from elementary came up to Logan to spend the night with me. After meeting up with Nate's family after dinner at the church to decorate and set up the luncheon, Marilyn and I stayed up way too late reminiscing of our younger days. We painted nails and slept on the floor, (since all of my things had already been moved to "our"house) our last of many, many, many sleepovers. 2 days prior, I had met in my surgeon's office to hear the most wonderful news, that the lump they had removed from my breast and biopsied the week before, was indeed not cancerous, but that I needed to keep an eye on things. This was the best way to start my week, and helped ease a lot of already there wedding stress. Later that same day, my Athletic Injuries professor informed us he was changing our test from Tuesday to Thursday (my wedding day!) thinking he was doing us a great favor. I managed to convince him I really was getting married the day of the test, and could I please take it early. He told me no, he didn't want any questions leaked, and that he would allow me to take it when I returned from my Honeymoon on Monday, assuming I would not be talking to any of my classmates over the weekend :) Escaping these few minor last minute stresses, along with silly things like not having pen or book for guests to sign in, I felt prepared. I pleaded with Nate upon departing the night before our wedding, to please, please, please not be late picking me up the next morning for the Temple. I told him if he were late every other day for the rest of our lives, so be it, just please don't be late tomorrow. I informed his two old mission companions who had traveled long distances to join us on our day (one from Las Vegas, who I'm quite sure thought he was in Canada by the time he finally reached Logan, UT), and would be staying with Nate that night at our house, that if they kept him up all night and made him late to pick me up, I would never forgive them. :)
He was late. Thursday, October 19, 2006 was a bit overcast, a perfectly brisk, fall day (later making great pictures, since there was no sun to squint at). In the Sealing Room, holding hands with my groom, taking in at least 50 of our closest friends and family members, the Temple felt so warm and bright and quite possibly, bursting it's walls with joy. I didn't realize that day that this would be the only day for all of our lives that would be solely and completely about US. Just us. I wish I could have made my younger self realize that on that day, because that is pretty darn special. My eyes were teary from the moment the Sealer mentioned my grandparents, the only set in the room, as an example of longevity in love, still holding hands. I was overcome with emotion for the rest of the ceremony. Nate never let go of me all day. I remember thinking to myself that night at our reception how absolutely wonderful it was to spend an entire day with him (which hardly EVER happened in our 1+ years of dating), by my side, holding hands the whole way through.
I'm so thankful he decided to stick it out with me, when after approximately 36 hours of being married, he awoke to me in the middle of the night puking in the guest bathroom of our log cabin retreat in Jackson Hole, WY. I knew then that he truly loved me, when he came to my side, gently rubbed my back, and held my hair for me. He sweetly gave up on our breakfast dream of going to Village Inn the next morning, watched tv in the other room and let me sleep in until about 1230 in the afternoon. Once I finally woke up, he quickly took my order for what I needed and ran to the nearest gas station, picking up my Coke, pretzels, and Advil, along with a juice and muffin for himself. If my happy newly-married-wedding bubble hadn't already been popped, reality slapped me in the face on Monday as I gave my most important presentation of the semester in my business class at 730am, proceeded with the rest of my classes that day, ran a 3.5mile warmup! in my lab, took the test I'd missed out on the week before, and headed to work until 730pm. I think Nate came home about 9pm that night. And that was our new life.
Today, I am scrubbing the kitchen floor, by hand; something I despise, loathe, abhor. Because the man I fell in love with what seems SO very long ago, the man who couldn't take his eyes off me 5 years ago as we set up tables in a church, the man who, with watery eyes and on bended knee on a special rock in a river in Idaho, told me he could not imagine life without me, never wanted to be without me and loved me more than he knew he could, asked me to scrub the kitchen floor, and told me how much it would mean to him if I did. And today as I started scrubbing, it gave me a lot of time to reflect on him and our life. While I probably had more fun 5 years ago, playing kickball and dodgeball at school, taking a day off work, and contemplating the butterflies in my stomach on how the next day was supposed to be the best day of my life, I didn't have a sweet son napping in his Aggie room, who makes my world go round. I didn't have the full-time job of being a mom, something I never knew I would love and appreciate so much. I didn't have a hard-working, dedicated husband who sincerely loves his family, his job, his church calling, and his new truck :) I didn't have fish in the backyard to watch over,or a house to call mine. I didn't live far from home and family, and wasn't forced to have faith in my husband and my God that all would be well. In the long run, 5 years doesn't seem like anything to be worked up about. But looking back at our last 5 years, I really can't believe we are where we are, and am truly glad that my husband, the man who had me immediately smitten and head over heels, decided he needed someone to eventually scrub his floors. :) The funny thing about love is, as I scrubbed and scrubbed that darn kitchen floor, I soon forgot how intensely I hated it. I could only think about how lucky I am, how good it felt to do something that I knew he would sincerely appreciate, and how very, very much I love my husband. Happy 5 years tomorrow, Love.
(I couldn't get my scanner to work, so I took a pic of the pic in the book on my phone. Real quality stuff. :)