Taking Flight - Love Story Pt. 11

"It just wasn't the same."  He said on the other end of the line.  "Being with her isn't like being with you......I miss you."  

My eyes welled up and a smile emerged:  "I miss you too!" 

Then my best friend surfaced and proceeded to give me the play by play of the weekend, including one lack-luster kiss, and right up to his early farewell-- seeing no reason to spend any more time with this girl and her family.  I was so sorry for her, but so so happy for me.  I was irreplaceable!  At least this time.

I wasn't going to let there be a next time.

Less than a week later I was on a plane to San Jose.  I stared out the window and over the clouds, knowing I was flying right into my future.  I spent those 90 minutes contemplating the power of one single choice to alter eternity. It was incomprehensible.  But I had made up my mind.  I was 100% certain of my choice and I swore to myself the moment I purchased the airline ticket that I would not turn back, no matter what.  I fully expected fear to rear it's ugly head, and I was prepared this time.  I knew my enemy now.  We were fully acquainted.  I knew his sneaky tactics, and I had built up an arsenal of weapons within to maintain my stronghold.

I got off the plane with Creighton's kind eyes and warm smile to welcome me.  We melted into a hug that calmed me to my core.  It was New Years Eve,Y2K.  If the world was going to end, at least we would go out together. We spent the evening at a party hosted by Cisco, his employer, and miraculously survived the Midnight gong. 

I slept on Creighton's couch while he did  graveyard shifts at work to be sure the entire Internet was ushered safely into the new millennium.  I remember waking up when he tiptoed in just before dawn and feeling enveloped in peace and warmth and happiness.

We spent New Years Day at Muir Woods, north of San Francisco and then had dinner with some of his friends.  At one point in the morning, I felt myself spiraling downward, but quick-as-a-ninja, I whipped out my noggin nun-chucks and sent those willies packing.

Muir Woods.  New Years Day 2000

The following day was Sunday.  We attended church together and I sat through the meetings with a flurry of thoughts and emotions- still in mid-air with the leap of faith I had just taken.  During the third hour, the teacher made a comment during her lesson that I knew was meant specifically for me.  My spirit at last touched ground.  For the first time in many many years, I had an exhilarating sense of freedom- freedom from the shackles of the past and freedom from my need to grip the future. I at last felt free not only to choose (which I had done), but to feel confident in my choice. One big green light glowed within me. 

I frolicked in my liberation, and we basked in the happy glow that evening.  Then Creighton put that beautiful ring back on my finger where it belonged. 

Creighton's new girlfriend called that night to check on him after his hasty departure Christmas night.  I sat on the sofa and cringed while he talked to her and let her go as kindly as he could.  It turns out I had met this girl in college. The  minute I put a face to her name, I knew Creighton would never have ended up with her.  Somehow that made it all okay-  I felt sure she would find someone else. 

He was mine.

I flew back to Utah the next morning-- and back into the wind and waves I fully expected.  Each day I braced myself for incoming fearful storms.  This time, the tactics were switched; it was not my own doubts and fears I battled, but those that came at me like poisonous arrows aimed at my confidence- comments from friends, songs on the radio, a documentary on T.V., magazine and newspaper articles-- all sending the subtle, sinister message that I was wrong- that I couldn't trust my heart. 

But I knew that I could.  I had at long last learned that- from losing the first time, and choosing the second time.  So I retaliated.  I rose each morning to drawn-out prayers for strength and deep drinking of scriptures, until I reached the point that I could leave my home filled with light inside.  I turned off the radio and television.  I stopped reading magazines and newspapers.  I braced myself for discouraging conversations.  I took breaks to read scriptures at work, and took time off to attend the temple when my faith was faltering.  On one particularly difficult morning driving to work, I decided I would turn on the radio for the first time in weeks.  A song I had never heard was playing and I was struck by the words:

I can read your mind and I know your story

and I see what you're going through

It's an uphill climb, and I'm feeling sorry

But I know it will come to you

So don't surrender cause you can win

In this thing called love

When you want it the most there's no easy way out

When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt

Don't give up on your faith

Love comes to those who believe it

And that's the way it is

When you question me for a simple answer

I don't know what to say

But it's plain to see, if you stick together

You're gonna find the way

So don't surrender cause you can win

In this thing called love

I have no doubt that some angel whispered to me to turn on the radio that morning. And God spoke to me in a song.  By the time I arrived at work, I had as much light and faith and conviction as I had ever had.  And so it went... each minute, each hour, each day and each week, I braved that storm and made it through.  Faith and hope and love conquering doubt and fear and insecurity.

Creighton flew back to Salt Lake every two or three weeks during that time.  His visits were rest to my soul.  Each week, the storms grew weaker and weaker as I became more and more firm in my faith and at peace within myself- to the point where nothing could weaken or destroy it.  
 
This is the state I was in when our wedding day arrived...

Engagement Photo. February 2000.