Defining Moments

We all have defining moments in our lives that shape our futures. One of my most defining moments occurred three years ago today.

I was at my grandmother’s house with my large clan of aunts, uncles and cousins for a day-after-Thanksgiving celebration. Above the happily loud cacophony that is a Hayden family gathering the ringing of the telephone could barely be heard. We were zipping up coats and searching for lost mittens, all in a jumble by the front door, as we prepared to head out to an evening movie.

It was through this jumble my little sister waded. When I turned around and saw she was standing in front of me with the phone I was a bit surprised, wondering who would be calling me at my grandma’s house. Then she said the words I had been hoping I wouldn’t hear for quite some time:

“Crystal, it’s for you. It’s a boy!”

It was just like in a movie, where the ruckus had been reaching unchartable levels, then, upon the words “it’s a boy,” the noise immediately cut off. All eyes were on me and every face had a knowing smile on it.

I ran into the office, escaping the sly stares only to find on the other end of the phone a guy who was just as surprised as I was to be talking to me since he was only calling my grandmother’s to ask for my phone number. I heard him ask me if I was doing anything that night and this is where that defining moment stuff comes in.

I had returned home from serving an LDS mission only a matter of days earlier. Having never dated beforehand and being deathly afraid of dates in general, it was my goal to not talk to boys for at least six months. I would be able to accomplish this because I fully intended to hide in my mother’s basement for the duration. All these plans were dashed as I talked with this young man at that moment.

I had met him on my returning flight. He was coming home from his Army post in North Carolina and we had found ourselves on the same plane. Had it not been for a mutual friend sitting by me in the back of the plane I’m sure we never would have talked. Missionaries don’t generally interact with members of the opposite sex unless said interaction involves handing them a pamphlet about eternal life. We were introduced to each other and that was that. I thought.

As the day continued, fate took a hand in the form of my grandmother. This young man chatted with her as she was leaving the airport after my arrival and then ran into her again the next day. She told him he should stop by and visit her sometime. She was in the phonebook.

A few short days later he took courage in hand and called June to see if her granddaughter was available. “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her,” was the reply and suddenly he was on the phone with me, stammering out an invitation for a date.

On my end, I had a dozen thoughts run through my mind in a split second. What was I doing talking to a boy? Hadn’t I only been home for five days? What would I do? What would I even say to him? I could just tell him I was busy, I mean, I was, wasn’t I? I was going to a movie. “Well, I’m going to a movie with my cousins,” I started. Yes, that’s it, just tell him you’re busy and then you won’t have to face your ultimate fear of going on a date.

“Do you want to come with us?”

I’m still not sure where those words came from. They were certainly words I, who had celebrated each time in my life I’d had the excuse that I was too busy to go out on a date, had never uttered.

I’ll be forever grateful I uttered them this time.

Scott came with us to the movies, where, for our first date, we had fourteen chaperones ranging in age from twenty-five to eight years old. We went out again the next night and the next, until, six weeks later, we were engaged.

At this Thanksgiving time, I’m always thankful to mark the day after as the day when I got a phone call at my grandma’s house from a boy. And that the boy turned out to be my husband.