Here is an example…
It’s Sunday afternoon on a cold, snowy winter day here in Provo, 16 December 1984. Last week was finals at BYU, and I concluded my tests just last night. Because of school, work, and many other things which seem to take all of my time, I have procrastinated writing down many of the feelings of my heart during this very special time Linda and I are spending together. I would like to capture as many of those things about our engagement and relationship as I can remember.
During spring semester at BYU, I took a second-year social dance class, PED 280. I often attended dances during the weekends to practice moves that I had learned, meet new people, and have a good time. It was the second weekend in June and, like usual, there was a dance at school planned. This one was in the Garden Court. Typical of most dances, it started slowly but was soon under full sway. I danced with several girls, then seeing Linda, I asked her if she would like to dance with me. She consented. As we made our way onto the dance floor, I introduced myself and asked about her as well. She told me her name and her major briefly, and we began tearing up the floorboards (figuratively speaking). In talking with her, I found she too had taken a second year social dance class, so we began boogying to some of the dances we both knew. After a few minutes of dancing, we thanked one another and went our separate ways. I took a turn with several other girls in the space of about 20 minutes and then sat on the back of an empty chair to take a quick breather.
I hadn’t been there for two minutes when Linda walked by. Remembering her name, which was unusual being that I just danced with other girls and didn’t remember their names, I motioned to Linda, called her by name, and asked if she would like to rest a minute. She sat beside me, and we talked. Immediately, I recognized how comfortable and relaxed I felt being with her, and soon we began dancing again. We had a really good time together that evening. It’s not often that I found someone who could dance all the dances that I had learned in my class. After we had tried all the steps we both knew from the classes we had taken, we taught each other a few more moves one of us knew: swing, two-step, whatever. I remember having a wonderful time, and much sooner than I wanted, the dance ended. We had spent nearly the whole evening together, save the first few dances. I walked with her to her car, and she offered to drive me to mine, which was on the other side of campus. All the while we talked and laughed, and I had a great time. As I climbed out of her car, I told her that I would call her during the coming week. She said “You better!” And we said goodnight.
As she drove away, I got in my car and drove straight back to the ELWC. I went to the information center and began looking through the student directory, which at that time were big loose-leaf binders of papers listing students' names alphabetically. I found Linda’s name and wrote down her address and phone number from the student directory. Having done that, I went home happy and satisfied.
During the coming week, I thought about her a lot. I wanted to ask her out, but I didn’t know what we would do. I found that my ward had planned an activity the coming Saturday—a trip to Sundance for the summer theater. I knew that was just perfect, so I called Linda and asked her if she would like to go out. To my delight, she consented. I told her we would have a picnic lunch and asked her to bring the sandwiches and that I would provide the rest. When I hung up the phone I remember feeling so good. I was on top of the world.
There are a couple other things I want to mention regarding this story.
First, when I called Linda initially, I asked for “Elaine.” That was because when I looked up her information, I wrote down her full name—Linda Elaine Mann—and as I spoke, I was nervous and mixed up the names. The girl I was speaking to said “You must have the wrong number. There isn’t an Elaine who lives here.” My heart dropped. Flustered, I stopped…thought…wondered…then realized my mistake and said “Oh! Oops I meant Linda! Is Linda there?” To which the girl responded “Yes. Just a moment.” Embarrassed, I explained to her what happened. Whoo! That was a close one.
Second, a week or two earlier a few young men had been invited to a nice Sunday dinner by some of the girls in our student ward. It was a delightful time, and everyone raved about the delicious meal our host had made. It was great. Toward the end of the dinner, she said there was pie and went into the kitchen to get it. The other girls in the room raved about what a great cook she was and that she really out did herself when making pie. “She actually whipped the cream from scratch!”
At the time, I kept to myself the fact that not only had I whipped cream from scratch, but I milked the cow and skimmed the cream before whipping it all on my own. Of course I said nothing at the time, but when I got home to Robyn’s, I recounted this experience to her and mentioned in passing “If I ever find a girl that makes my sandwiches with whole wheat bread, I am going to marry her.”
Back to the story. The week dragged by. I was supposed to be focusing on school, but all I could think about was Linda and our upcoming date. I wanted it to be perfect. I bought a large bags of chips, grapes, cut up some carrots and celery sticks, and baked a chocolate cake in a dripper pan. I frosted the cake with homemade chocolate icing and put it all in a cooler that I borrowed from Robyn. When I finally went to pick up Linda on Friday, she was sweet as cream and carried a brown paper bag with her. We had a delightful visit as we drove to Sundance and began the trek up the mountain with our goodies for our picnic dinner before the play began. When we arrived at the outdoor theater, we found a place on the hill and layed down a quilt on the grass for our supper. I pulled out the drinks, chips, grapes, carrot slices, celery sticks, and gigantic chocolate cake I had made. She probably had to cover her rolling eyes “This guy is nuts!” I was proud as a peacock and thought this was the beginning of something really good.
We were both right.
Linda opened the brown paper bag with the sandwiches she had brought. They were on whole wheat bread. The rest is history.
What you might not remember is that after our first date, Linda was leaving for Ventura two weeks later to enjoy the summer with her mother. We spent pretty much the entire time together. I convinced her to store her minimal school belongings in Robyn's garage, rather than paying for a small rental unit like she usually did while she was changing apartments—good move on my part.
We were engaged in September, though we were not married until the next May. Not really typical, but well worth the wait.
Valentines Day is a really special day when we get to honor our families, cherish our wives, and stand proud and happy to acknowledge our sweet children--sons, daughters, sons-in-law, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren. It really does get better every day!
And for that, I am grateful for the best thing that ever happened to me--your mother.
I love you all.
dad
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