June 12

Thirty-six years ago today, when we were just eighteen, Dan and I had our first date.

It was the summer after our freshman year of college.

Campus was relatively quiet, our class schedules were relatively easy. 

Long days eased into perfect Utah nights.

We met in Geology 101. 

I was smitten with his confidence even though it bordered on cocky.

One day he passed me a note that read: Make me dinner tonight.

With no hesitation I dashed off a response: You make me dinner.

He agreed.

He made me dinner, which was the plan all along--his roommates and neighbors and Dan all grilled steaks on a balcony hibachi. And they made side dishes. I remember peas.

One of his roommates played the record Another One Bites the Dust backwards

and we laughed and laughed.

Later that night we went swimming and I dove into the pool, which clinched it for Dan.

It was many nights of him making dinners that did it for me. Love at second sight, as the song goes.

(The Gambler. by fun. Love it so much.)

His dreams became my dreams and any sacrifices really felt like life adventures.

 

Four years ago, finishing my book was complicated by lack of time and I asked if he would take over making dinners. Without hesitation, but some trepidation, he agreed.

In less than 24 hours he was all in.

His willingness to support me in my dream, in the way that I needed,

made it all possible.

Thanks Dan, for everything. And especially for making dinners.