My Valentine

Eleven years ago today, Dan asked me to marry him. I got so nervous when he got down on his knees that I started laughing uncontrollably and fell on the ground (I do that--it's weird, but not frequent). After he finally pinned me down and asked me, I agreed and it's been the best decision we ever made. So, here's the back story.

I first saw, not met, Dan when he was a senior in high school. Even though we didn't meet, he had an emotional effect on me. He was competing with my brother Dan in the 110 high hurdles finals at the state championship (they were some pretty fast white boys). I'd driven down to Vegas from Provo (got my first and only speeding ticket in Parowan, Utah) to watch my brother run. I remember sitting in the bleachers waiting for the start. It was a false start. I saw this tall kid walk away with his hands on top of his head. "Oh no," says my mom. "It was the other Dan." He'd false-started and was disqualified. I remember feeling really bad for this guy I didn't know because that really sucked. Get to the state finals and D.Q. Sucky, sucky, sucky. Then, I didn't think about him again for a few years.

I came home for Christmas during my first year of law school and my family held its annual New Year's party. My younger siblings had become friends with the C kids (I think Dave had a crush on Valerie something fierce) and our parents became friends. At the party, Dan's mom says to me: "I want to take your picture and send it to Dan on his mission. I think you should marry him." "Okay!" I say, not meaning anything by it at all (like I'm going to marry a missionary I've never met?).

That spring I had my ACL reconstructed and spent 6 weeks on crutches. I was finally able to walk again (albeit with an exaggerated limp and a hip-to-ankle length brace) in early July. When one of the girls mentioned there was a singles dance, I jumped (not literally) at the chance to get out of the house. This fact is in itself amazing, because I'd given up on this singles branch a long, long, long time ago. So, I hobbled up to C-Hill, stood with a group a girls I barely knew and became acquainted with another group of people. Upon hearing one of the guys introduce himself as "Dan" my ears perked up. Hmmm, is this the guy whose mother talked to me? He played it cool and finally said, "Aren't you one of the Ds?" "Aren't you one of the Cs?" I replied. I was surprised. He was tall and really, really handsome. Killer dimples. I kept waiting for him to ask me to dance and we danced in a group for most of the night (I use the word "dance" with poetic license, remember the knee brace?). I was laughing so much with him and his friend Gary. Finally at the end of the night, at the very last song, he finally asked me to dance. We laughed and joked about the possibility of him bringing home parasites from Brazil (he was a bit skinny) and laughed some more. I went home that night and told my mom "I met Dan C. tonight." My heart was considerably lighter.

Then I didn't hear from him. I went to a few horrid singles activities on the off chance he might be there, but when he was, we only laughed and talked there. Finally, one of the girls I'd just met that summer dogged me about going out (said she wasn't going, then went) and I got possessive. I'm not gonna let some little hussy try to make a move on him. So I called his house and invited him and his siblings to play hearts before I went back to school. He called back, they came, we had fun.

I went back to school early to help with the 1L orientation. A couple weeks after school, I was driving around the south end of campus and had to stop for Dan and Gary in the crosswalk. I pulled over, said "hi," and wrote my number on his hand. Wisely he called. We went bowling with my roommate Leslie and her friends. Number of times I'd gone bowling in Provo before this: 0.

Then his Portuguese class was moved to the law building right by my locker. He was waiting for his class three days a week when I was putting away my books to go to lunch. We talked. I borrowed his cool hat for something silly at school. He left me a note "You look so fine in 'dat hat." We hung out, having a great time, but I was beginning to fear I was becoming the fun older sister, rather than someone to date. My roommate Jessica saw him standing on our porch steps and told me "He's got really nice calves!" My friend Garry P. said not to worry if he hadn't kissed me yet because that's what guys do when they are serious, they're afraid of screwing it up. My roommate Erika played a vital role when he called when I was out on a courtesy date: "She's gone to the fair with friends," she told him and sparked just enough jealousy in him to get moving. He took me to see the play "Much Ado About Nothing" and earned points by actually enjoying Shakespeare. Still, I wasn't sure if he liked me like that.

Finally, he kissed me. Well, first he asked. Seriously. He said "What would you do if I kissed you right now?" Duh. "I'd kiss you back," I answered. "Then I'd say it's about time." Fireworks went off, birds sang, the world was a much happier place. He even confessed: "I had your picture on my mission, and I told everyone you were my girlfriend. I started to feel a little guilty because I'd never met you, but I told them anyway." (Did that mean his conscience was cleared now?) I couldn't sleep that night.

So that's how it all started. Now, eleven years plus, he still has nice calves, killer dimples (stamped all the boys with them), and always makes me laugh. There are still fireworks (even if our kids hate them), the birds sing if they aren't too tired, and the world is definitely a happier place for me because of him.

I love you Dan.