18 Years Ago

Charles asked me to marry him, 18 years ago. It was September 4th, 1999. He took me up a mountain in Denali National Park, to a place called Savage Rock. I knew what was coming, because we had already determined that we wanted to get married, so the moment was not a shock. It was still a special and unforgettable moment in my life, as we knelt in prayer at the top of the mountain, and began our engagement with each other, making sure to include God in our important decision. 

I cannot remember how early on in dating that we started discussing marriage, but it was not too long into it that we knew we had something special together. In fact, our first dance together we experienced a chemistry that I had certainly not felt before, and he expressed the same thoughts to me. He often would refer back to that first dance later on, and express the magic that existed between us. There were forces beyond ourselves at work to bring us together it seemed. It was as if the elements of the Earth and Heavens combined, to makes sure that Charles and Mari became one. 

And we did become one. 

One of the best things Charles ever wrote in his journal was: "Mari and I have grown close, so close to each other in these last few years of preparation. I love my wife. I finally know what the phrase "the wife of my bosom" means." 

The "wife of his bosom." 

How could I ask for more? 

Oh wow, I love him. I always have, and always will. 

This is not to say we just basked in joyful bliss at all moments of our marriage, because that is far from the truth. I may have been the "wife of his bosom" but we had struggles, and went through trials that tested our fortitude and love. We had hard times, and that last year before he died, it was such a struggle, because he was so physically uncomfortable and we did not know why, until it was too late. I try not dwell on those moments too much, because the past cannot be changed. I now prefer to remember the good times, the sweet times, and the love, because there was so much love between us. That love held us together in those hard times. And even now, our love continues to give me strength to journey on with joy. 

Our love will never die. Not ever. 

I just love Charles so much. I have felt him close lately, in a really good and positive way, and I am so grateful for that. Sometimes I wonder what kind of things he is writing in his journal now. He was an avid journal writer, and I doubt he has stopped keeping a record of life. I wonder what his thoughts and feelings are on life where he is, and I often wonder how he feels I am doing with our family. One day, I hope he will share those thoughts with me. 

I look forward to the day when we can once again share our thoughts with each other, gaze into each others eyes, and be close in every way. I just cannot imagine that moment when we will be reunited. I feel like it would make my body explode if I could comprehend that moment fully at this time. It must remain a mystery of the future, so I do not spontaneously combust. But I do know that one day, that moment will come, and we will never be parted again. 

Until that day... I keep finding the Courage to Continue. 

This picture is from a trip we took as a family back to Alaska, a few months after Charles died. We went back to Savage Rock, our engagement spot. The picture at the top was from the day of our engagement... the rainbow was all part of Charles' romantic plan. 

This is a comment Charles left on my blog years ago... 

Charles said...

There is not space enough to contain a complete expression of love and gratitude for the one person in my life (other than Heavenly Father), who has always been able to see the best in me, and who has been such an inspiration to me. But let it suffice to say that if I could have been an given eternity to conceptualize the perfect woman, wife, and mother, I could not have put together a person half as good as Mari is to me. She took me as I was when she first met me, and Lord bless her for it. Looking back, even I can see the terrible risk she was "engaging" herself in when she took up with the likes of me. But, like a true gambler, she knew when to hold him, knew when to fold him, she didn't walk, away, although, she did try to run. Here we are seven years and 2.4 children later, and we are better than we have ever been. What a woman--what a time!

10:36 AM