14

When I was a little girl growing up in the wine country I often liked to daydream just as most little girls do. I would sometimes go out in the backyard and sit atop the swimming pool slide so I could see over the fence and view the surrounding vineyards and rolling hills, and it was there that I would daydream. I would often think of my future husband. Silly, I know, but I would wonder what he looked like and what he was doing at that very moment. I wondered what his name was. Little did I know he was far away in Utah, doing the crazy things that little boys do, yet already learning how to work and prepare himself for his future. And then as I got a little bit older, little did I know that he was in a city not too far from me, growing into a strong young man, not only physically, but spiritually. And then when the time was right we finally discovered eachother...and my life has taken a path that has brought me so much happiness, more than I ever imagined as a daydreaming little girl.

But our relationship hasn't been an easy one. Once we started to get to know each other, it didn't take long to fall madly in love at the age of 18. My stomach had butterflies every time I saw him. He had a way of lighting up the room, of making me laugh. But then he moved away, far far away. My heart was sad and as we said good-bye that day in his front yard I honestly thought I would never see him again. But that was not to be. Somehow we held on. Letters, phone calls, special surprise visits, we couldn't let go of eachother. I needed to be closer to him though. I missed him and that charming smile of his. I soon got accepted to Ricks College and the weekends were ours. We crammed in as many visits and happy memories as we could as we knew our time was limited and he would soon be leaving for two years. Those were some of the best times. We were young, carefree, excited about life and our future, and happily preparing ourselves for whatever was to be. That final kiss was a difficult one to take and once he let go of me and left my apartment the thought of him being away for two years was almost unbearable. I couldn't comprehend how I could get along without having him to talk to. Argentina was indeed very far away and I found myself writing a letter to him every single week. It's amazing what two years can do to two young people. We both grew up in so many ways. We were still the best of friends but the mission came first and soon I stopped hearing the words "I love you". I was hesitant, but eventually decided to test the waters and date a little, but none could compare. It was a way to help pass the time, but my heart was his and his only. I didn't know how things would work themselves out when he came home, but I did know that he was the one for me, without a doubt. I knew it over and over again. The two years eventually came and went, it's all a blur now really. And when he returned I was so nervous to see him again. I couldn't eat for days. I was so excited to actually see his face again, a day I had dreamed about every day for the past two years. And when we saw eachother again things were  very different. It wasn't the fairytale reunion you would imagine it to be. It was an awkward handshake and words barely spoken. Two years in a foreign country, dedicating his life to missionary service had changed him. He needed time. I tried to understand the best I could. I tried to understand and accept it when he told me he wanted to date other girls. But that was the last thing I wanted, or needed, to hear. And so I cried. My heart hurt. I flew home feeling empty and foolish. I gave him his time. All the time he needed. It was his move now. He knew I was his, he just needed to figure out if he was mine.

Well, we all know time can work wonders, and two months later a proposal came, down on his knee, in the sand, on the beach of my childhood. Happy doesn't even begin to describe how I felt. My once sad heart wanted to burst with undescribable joy. It was truly a day of celebration. But more separation was to come until four months later we were reunited, this time for good, in a sacred, special, heavenly place, never to be separated again. No more waiting. No more wondering. No more tears of sadness, only tears of joy.

Since then, life has been truly glorious and very eventful but it hasn't been easy. Whose life is anyway? Just like any other marriage it has taken work, service, compassion, compromise, sacrifice and patience. The trials come and go, but with each passing one our relationship evolves into something stronger and stronger, simply unbreakable. We are in this together. We are one. The tears still come and go but for different reasons than before. And the beauty of it all is we are not alone. We have eachother to wipe them away. So today we celebrate 14 years of marriage but I like to think of it as 17 years, since that's how long it's been since it all began. This is approximately half of my life, and his, thus far. I consider myself one lucky girl to have known someone so wonderful for nearly half my life. I've treasured every minute of it, good and bad. I hate to think of where I'd be without him and the little family we have created. And who knows how much time we'll have together in this life--life is short and unexpected things can happen--so for now I'm loving every day, soaking in every hug and kiss, cherishing the precious little time we do have together. You're my hero Ryan, in so many ways!