Love Story

So, I have been working on writing about how my husband and I met...and then against all odds got married:)  I've been chipping away at it for about two weeks and then today, in a desperate search for something to post I found this piece that I wrote to my roommate about 8 years ago, in order to remember the story I am now trying to write.  It is so funny to delve into old photos, letters, and journals.  I could have never imagined myself where I am now, so truly and deeply happy.

Dear Roomie (Kind of embarrassed that I still call you that),

        So, I trust you remember the very beginning…the part when we met David Lauda, the most amazing looking guy I had ever laid eyes on. We were working on making those reception snails, when I still didn’t know his name and when you had to drag me over to talk to him.  Fortunately I found out his name before we went bowling…I’m still laughing about our crazy costumes, those stinking basket ball jerseys we borrowed from the rugby guys. I still am embarrassed by how badly I bowled and how David told the security guard he was “Twenty?” I thought he was lying for sure, he didn't look a day over 17.   Hmm…so that’s the start.  

        Even that fabulous night  hardly scratched the surface of getting to know David.  The day he was baptized I stayed late at church.  He made me laugh at his simple humility and crazy sense of humour.  I was struck by his straightforward faith and the way he opened up to me as we drove with Katie Anderson back to Westmont.  That was when his dad was still alive, and coming home in only a month or two.

     Then you left and Mayterm began.  That’s when I first became friends with Mina. She guessed my secret crush of David right off the bat.  I guess it wasn't that much of a secret. I was super grateful that she would always give me rides to the house to hang out.  She loved to tease me about how awkward I’d get.   I finally admitted to Val, that I tried avoided David because I felt so awkward.  She promply signed me up to do Sunday school with him.

Then Nate died.  I was in art class when Kirsten told me.  I came home and called Chase then I went for a run…I ran so long I got sick..you know how that happens to me.  I almost didn’t go to Reality I felt so bad but I mustered all my strength and made it to Calvary Chapel just in time to rush to the bathroom for another bout of sickness.  I came out and sat myself in the back of the room, I hardly noticed when David came late and sat down next to me.  After the singing and service we joked about his imaginary compassion child and I realized I was no longer feeling sick.  Kelly came rushing over trying to organize a hike to seven falls.  When David said, "Sure." I looked at him in disbelief.  “You like to hike?” I questioned.  “But I thought you were from the ghetto.”  He assured me that he really did like to hike.  And that was the end of that.  The next day I got a call asking if we should get together and plan Sunday school.  I was catering for an art opening and I called back later apologizing for stereotyping him as a thug and not a nature lover and saying maybe we could hang out at Liz’s.

And so it began, Sunday School, hiking, talking on the phone and perhaps most importantly sitting on the DP wall, talking.  I remember writing in my journal one night, “ I finally found someone who can out story tell me”  David’s stories captured my imagination and my heart.  I was amazed at the humor and bravery of his childhood. But I was so scared to care too much.  I wrote for and against my feeling, battling in my mind a war waged in my journal over whether or not caring about him was wise.  I convinced myself that after he and Liz dropped me off at LAX that would be the end.  I would spend the summer enthralled in camp and preparing for PC.  When I hugged him goodbye, I thought that was as close as we’d ever get…

Wow, we were soooo young