22

When I was 22, I got married.

Matthew and I had known each other since I was 19. I had a crush on him before he left on his mission, so when he asked, I promised to write him while he was gone.   We fell in love through the letters we wrote and tapes we recorded for each other. He kissed me and told me that he loved me the second time we saw each other after he got home.  We had never even been on a date yet.

We had signed ourselves up for a 9:00 sealing appointment. So, my poor mother got up at 5:30 in the morning and did my hair. Oh, I was awfully grouchy. And then I forgot the marriage license at home. What an ominous beginning to our day of marital bliss.

Luckily my surly attitude and forgetfulness were the only major mishaps of the day. It was sunny, clear and beautiful, in late August.   We were lucky to have so many friends and family there to share it with us. I felt beautiful in my dress. Matt looked so handsome in his new suit.  The food was delicious at our reception.  We danced to Nat King Cole.

One thing I will never forget is how Matthew cried during our wedding ceremony. I honestly feel like such a lucky girl. I think he is the best thing about me.