Happy Anniversary to Me (and Scott)

After Thanksgiving break during my first semester of college, Scott was at the airport to see me off, back to Indiana. I was going to be home for Christmas, but by that time, Scott would be in California serving a two-year mission. So it would be more than two years before I would see him again. I felt a sense of desperation that in spite of how much I loved Scott, our relationship was at an end. At 18, I couldn't envision a future where everything worked out after two long years of separation. I was miserable. I am embarrassed now thinking about what an absurdly dramatic good-bye it was. A flight attendant who had seen us crying approached me on the plane. I was still sobbing, probably really loudly. She said, "How long before you see him again?" I bawled, "Two years!" Then I started crying like you only see in movies. Humiliating! But I didn't care then. I had just turned 18 and my whole life was ruined.

Thereafter followed six years of college and violin making school, and a mission and college and work for Scott, during which we remained friends even though it was painful. I wish I could visit that 18-year-old on the flight back to Indiana and whisper in her ear, "It will all work out! In twenty years from now, you'll be married to this guy and have six kids and every day, you will think you're the luckiest girl in the world."