Racheal and I have been married for 5 years. 5 years.
I know, right?!
I realized the other day when someone asked me how we met, we usually opt for the easy road. I say something like:
"We met at EFY (a church camp) when we were 15."
End of discussion.
I've come to realize, that by doing that, I take away from all the romance of how we really met. Of what I really felt. So, if you're looking for the non-sappy, you may need to look elsewhere.
I met Racheal when I was 15. 15 is not the best time to meet the girl of your dreams. At least it wasn’t for me. I was sporting both acne and braces. I had an unruly curly mop of hair.
I went to EFY in Tacoma that year. On the first day, we got divided into our groups that we’d spend the whole week. I remember the very first session really vividly, because of Racheal. Some question came up during a scripture study session and she had a really profound answer. But mostly, she had this strange warm aura around her. It may have been the constant blush Racheal seemed to have on her cheeks back then, but to me it was immediately striking.
Now, to meet her. Show her that I existed. Something. I realized quickly that this was going to be an all but impossible task. There were a lot of guys and most of them had their sights set on Racheal. After day two, I realized I wasn’t going to get much time with her, let alone be able to convince her that I was worth talking to.
But one of the amazing things about Racheal is that she has a mandate of inclusion. That week, everyone got to know her and she became close friends with everyone. I see this now when we go to the grocery store checkout line and Racheal gets the cashier to unload her emotional problems on her. She’s just that kind of person.
Well, I got my time too. It mostly consisted of half-baked attempts at flirting. Man it’s painful to think about that.
Racheal made me feel like I was incredible. I felt smart, spiritual, and interesting even though my primary source of conversation came from sci-fi movies, books, and video games.
That whole week, I just wanted to spend my whole time with her. But when one of the guys in our group openly declared that he was going to pursue her, then I realized I was a lost cause. Honestly, this is hilarious to think about now, because:
- Racheal is a force of nature and cannot be claimed
- Racheal would be appalled at the implication that a woman could be “claimed"
- I have no idea what ever happened to that guy… so I win
I spent the rest of my week trying to enjoy myself. I read, I learned and I met people, but Racheal was always there out of my reach.
At EFY, the day before last, they have banquet. You didn’t really pick a date per se, but you did escort someone for the entirety of the evening. Racheal was obviously picked by our mystery man. I was heartbroken.
Don’t worry, I was super nice to my date. C’mon.
Before the banquet, we went to a choral concert. It was made up of a selection of attendees and Racheal was up there towards the front. I don’t remember the name of the song, Rach probably does, but I remember everything about that moment.
There’s this scene in the movie Big Fish, when the main character meets the woman of his dreams, Sandra Templeton. Time freezes. She has this other worldly glow.
What I saw was this girl on stage that had been transformed into something majestic. I can only describe it as light. She was glowing. But there was something deeper too which I’ve come to call resonance. Whatever cosmic note I am be it a A, G, or D—Racheal’s note was completing my chord. I felt bound, entranced and amazed. This is one of those hallmark moments for me in my life where I knew Racheal was someone interwoven with me.
This moment carried an immense amount of weight for the rest of my life—such that that gravity around it has always drawn me closer and closer to her.
All I wanted to do was be around her. That was all. Even to just have a second of feeling like that again.
That night, as we all walked to dinner, there was a mix-up. There weren’t enough seats at a certain table, so I had to split up with my date. I walked to a new table and found Racheal there. She had been split up too.
That was it. Seriously, I knew it was meant to be.
Racheal and I both have accounts in our journal from this dinner. Mine focuses on how this was fate and that it was an amazing conversation. Racheal’s journal basically chalks this up to another conversation with another boy who she was pretty sure liked her.
I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. That night was like a dream to me.
Now, let’s acknowledge that all of this is happening when I was 15. This story would probably not be a great one if we didn’t end up getting married. In fact, it might be a little creepy. But that’s what 15 year olds, slight creepy, mostly emotional, and absurdly extreme in how they paint their memories. But I know that aura around Racheal wasn’t something made up, because I’ve seen it since then.
EFY wrapped up. It was all over. We all said goodbye and went home.
But I was different now. My life had crossed paths with Racheal Alvstad and I didn’t know how to ever get it to go back to normal.
I first started emailing Racheal when I got back. I loved talking to her, but I really wanted to talk to her. I hadn’t really talked much with girls on the phone. But this was my dream girl and it had to happen. I worked up the courage and gave her a call.
It was awkward at first. How could it not be? But me being super prepared, I had notes on things to talk about if I needed them. Somehow we found our way to Star Wars, a subject we both love, and it was easy after that.
This became part of my teenage regimen. Calling Racheal every once in a while to talk about what was going on in our lives. I talked to her about everything. Difficulty at school, problems I was having, and ideas I couldn’t stop thinking about. We brushed our teeth on the phone together once. She was my best friend.
I tried once to talk to Racheal about how I felt about her. It didn’t go well. She had always felt that I was like a brother to her. Yeah, that day sucked. And that never changed when we were teenagers. I took her out on a couple dates, we even doubled with other people sometimes, but we never had a way to make it work. Well, let’s be honest. I was way more into Racheal then she was in to me.
We both dated other people through high school. I’d still call her when I was in a rough patch. I remember even calling her once, crying because of something that had happened. She eased my fears, calmed me down, and helped get me back on track.
There was another experience that added another point of gravity to our relationship. Racheal called me once on her way down to a dance. We usually saw each other every couple months at a church dance somewhere. This one was down in Vancouver.
The dance wasn’t great. We ended up staying the night at someone’s house that was a family friend of Racheal’s. All of us were watching a movie together, but not really watching it. We were hanging out and staying up as late as we could. As the evening progressed, everyone fell asleep except for Racheal and I.
We talked all night. I don’t even remember what we talked about. I do remember at one point Racheal went and played the piano. There’s something bewitching about talking to someone for that long with an awkward break in the conversation. To be so thoroughly involved in every syllable that they speak. She was just the most fascinating person I had ever known.
And instead of being on the other line of the phone, she was here with me. We were talking like we had always talked, but this was special.
After that, again, we dated other people. We both had lives and we both did what we’d always wanted to do.
There were a few other moments that served as anchors too. The time we went to the church activity and we were asked to play Adam and Eve in a skit. The time I went to Nauvoo and worked in the temple and thought about her. The time I left Racheal with a CD with me talking and sharing my beliefs and thoughts with her in case she ever needed it. Hundreds of moments big and small.
But life goes on. Racheal continued going to college. I went to Peru on my mission. We wrote each other a bit, but not religiously. Get it. Religiously. I’m hilarious.
When I got home, I went and spent a day with her. This was the first time Racheal had ever considered dating me. It was the best moment of my life up to that point. We stayed up all night talking and we kissed for the first time. I was floating for the next couple weeks. We went out a few more times and talked. I knew this was it. It was finally happening.
But it wasn’t. You could chalk it up to a lot of things. I was too eager. Racheal wasn’t ready. I didn’t know who I was. I still needed to lose more hair. Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter.
What did matter was how it left me. When Racheal “broke up” with me, it left me questioning a lot of things. Was she ever really my friend? How had I gotten this so wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough? I also say “broke up” parenthetically because from Racheal’s point of view, we were never actually dating. We had just kissed. That was all.
To this date this is still a point of disagreement.
For me, I had just let the girl of my dreams go.
Racheal eventually went on a mission to Botswana. I eventually moved on and actually became a normal, functioning adult. For both of us, these years were exactly what we needed to have in order to grow up.
Racheal frequently says that her mission taught her about patience, kindness, and stability with a companion. This is something that I am so grateful for now, because let’s face it, sometimes I really suck at being a good husband.
For me, this time was crucial because I got to become something different than the guy who liked Racheal Alvstad. No more pedestals. I figured out who I wanted to be for the rest of my life.
I didn’t start writing Racheal until she was about to come home. I didn’t want to get anything romantically going again. I was done with that. But I missed my friend. The conversations were pleasant and it was nice to be talking like normal again.
When she came home, she felt that she needed to move to Provo for a bit. When I got this news, I was really apprehensive. I had just moved on. I had grown up. I was a different person and I didn’t need her like that anymore.
She wanted to meet up, so we planned to meet for lunch. I figured that would make sure it was casual and she wouldn’t read into it. I remember looking in the mirror before I left and saying, “Just friends. You are just hanging out."
That day changed everything.
That day ended with us sitting in a park together holding hands and starting to scheme what our lives would eventually look like.
Here I am. 5 years later. Everything the way we had imagined in that park that day.
Racheal, I don’t know if I can ever adequately express in words the way I feel about you. The overwhelming gratitude I have for who you are and what you’ve helped me become. I don’t think I can ever tell you how much I love you for what you’ve been through with our kids.
But I love you.
What that means is that these last 5 years, from the high of running down trails in Lake Wenatchee to the lows of sitting alongside our daughter, covered in tape, wires, tubing in the NICU—I have loved you for every minute of it.
And even though I can’t articulate it—at least I have the resonance. When we spend our time together and I can feel that same cosmic chord being played, I know that this was meant to be.
Thank you for choosing me.
