Chapter Two: Nate

“Can you conceive of eternal life without eternal love? Can either of you envision eternal happiness without the companionship of one another?”
-Gordon B. Hinckley

After graduating from high school, I went to Dixie College on a debate scholarship. Although the experiences I had there are a big part of my personal history, they aren’t a big part of my life as a mother. My family life began shortly after I graduated from Dixie, with my two year degree.

I transferred the associate’s to the University of Utah. My major was physics, with plans to go to law school once I was done. I had always been directed to the social sciences, a fault of the way public education deals with girls. But, do to the example of a friend, and some interesting classes at Dixie, I realized that there was a lot more “science” in the physical sciences. I loved them. I found physics completely enthralling.

The biggest problem was that, although I’d taken all the prerequisites, I’d never taken calculus. So, I was bound to struggle in the calculus-based physics class at the University. I took it as a co-requisite, as required by the school. I should have taken it before I entered the physics class. Of course, if I had, I would never have met Nathan.

Along with the lectures, we were required to attend a weekly co-lab. During the co-lab, we would sit at a table with three other students and work on a specific physics problem. My first week, I sat at a table alone and waited for others to join me. Before long, a skinny boy came over and invited me to join his table. I accepted, noticing two other boys watching me from the direction he indicated. After all, the lecture had about three hundred students. Of them, I would estimate there were around 25 girls. It wasn’t bad odds for me.

I met Andrew, Mike and Nate. I took an immediate interest in Mike. He was wearing a foreign language CTR ring. I had come to associate that with returned missionaries. During the course of the class, however, my interest quickly shifted to Nate. The first week’s problem wasn’t very hard, but it was still obvious by the end of class who was the smartest boy at my table.

I admit that every boy I have ever had a crush on, from elementary through college, earned the honor because of his brain rather than any of the more socially desirable traits. Athletes bored me. Student body officers irritated me. The nerds, however, always caught my attention. I remember making note of every interesting boy’s ACT score in high school. My sophomore year, I secretly adored a boy with a 33. I swore I would not settle for less. I suppose Nate must have attracted me in other areas as well, because he only got a 32.

We did the co-lab assignments over a table that had a dry-erase board as a top. When Nate ripped apart advanced calculus problems on that table as if it took no thought at all, I sighed after him the way most girls would some dork playing a guitar at a mission reunion. It was the perfect beginning.

At the end of that first lesson, Nate pointed at my text book and said he hadn’t bought his yet. He offered to help me with the homework if I let him use the book. We sat out on the lawn outside the physics building and did the homework as soon as class was over. He had to rush off to work afterward.

I dated a couple of other guys during the next week, but I couldn’t help anticipating the co-lab and Nathan. And then, as if to spite me, he didn’t show up. I was forced to do the co-lab with Andrew, Mike and some other boy. This new one had the annoying habit of looking at me condescendingly every time I ventured a thought. I reasoned that Nate must have transferred out of the class. I was more than a little disappointed. But, schedules did have the habit of changing during the first week of a semester. I put him out of my mind.

I was delighted when he was there early the next week. He sat at our table and the original group was back together again. Months later, when I told him how disappointed I was that he hadn’t come the second week, he told me he had been there. He said, “I came in late and your table was already full. After class, I wondered if you wanted help with your homework, but when I looked for you, you were surrounded by other guys. So, I left.” That’s not the way I remember it, but his version makes me smile.

Despite his purported interest in me, I had to ask him out on our first date. After several homework sessions, I asked if he would let me take him to dinner to thank him. Once a geek, always a geek.

We dated from when we met in September, until Christmas. It was about that time when Nathan started talking about getting married. I told him, firmly, that I was going on a mission before I got married to anyone. I generously offered to let him wait for me. He became increasingly sulky. I took the spring semester off so I could work more and earn money for my mission. I would turn 21 in June.

Somewhere around March, Nate asked me to fast with him about whether or not we should get married. I agreed. It was a Sunday and I didn’t tell anyone about what I was doing. I felt like it was between Nate and me. I had been meeting with my bishop once a month to discuss my missionary preparation. I wasn’t due to meet him for another two weeks. Against all odds, the bishop found me in the church hallways and asked me to meet him in his office after church.
I walked into the office and was met with a huge smile. The bishop waited for me to have a seat before asking, “How are the mission plans coming?”

It hit me so hard; I couldn’t deny it (which I’m very good at doing). I told him I wasn’t going on a mission. I was getting married. He didn’t seem surprised at all. Not for the first time in my life, I realized that bishops always know.

It’s amazing to me how often I feel like I’ve received a strong revelation one day and how I become completely insecure about my decision the next. My certainty that marriage was the right choice didn’t last beyond that day. Looking back, I often wonder why I have such little faith. If Heavenly Father told me once, why should he have to keep reassuring me? I shouldn’t question the answer first received.

A friend of mine laughed at me when I told her I was engaged. She said that I had broken up with Nate once a week and she couldn’t believe I expected her to think that the engagement would last. It was largely because of that statement that it did. How dare she imply that I wasn’t serious about my engagement? Still, I remained secretly insecure through the three months it took to plan our wedding.

Two days before we were scheduled to be married, Heavenly Father blessed me, once again, with security. I was helping Nate clean out his apartment when I found his patriarchal blessing. It mentioned the girl he would marry. That passage struck me so hard because I knew, without a doubt, it was talking about me. I felt much more carefree in the next few days.

After the wedding, all my fears disappeared. When we were dating and I was volatile, Nate was sulky and insecure. When we were engaged, Nate was confident. When we were married, Nate was calm, happy and completely wonderful. Everyone says the man changes once you’re married. It turned out to be completely true in my case, but not in the way they imply. Instead of letting his true controlling, inattentive and cruel nature show once we were married, Nathan did the opposite. He was no longer being jerked around by me, and so he became less moody and more perfect. In fact, one might argue we had an absolutely ideal marriage for two years.

Since then, we, like all couples, have had our ups and downs. I have been told that the greatest joy in life is falling in love. I was told this by someone who couldn’t understand why I would want to spend forever with the same man I fell for when I was very young. My considered response is that the statement is absolutely correct. However you interpret it, the greatest joy in life is falling in love. I have had the opportunity to fall in love a hundred times. Each time has been sweeter than the last. But for me, each time has been with the same person. My remarkable husband continues to amaze me. And it feels like I fall in love all over again on a weekly basis. I continually find new things about him to adore. And those sweet and overwhelming feelings of knowing I’m in the arms on someone I’m completely addicted to return month after month with more impact.