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  • InLove Story, Malise Love, True Stories

    Malise Love Story Part 9: The Proposal

    A week after I told Matt my “secret” about how I was pretty sure I wanted to marry him someday (read that part of the story here), he brought it up while we were saying goodnight on my porch. He said “remember that secret you told me last week? Yeah, me too.”

    Earlier that day, I’d had a heart-to-heart with my friend Heather where she said “I think you know you’re going to marry him, and I think the fact that you haven’t told your dad yet means that you know but you’re scared to say it out loud.” And then I’d called my dad intending to talk about everything but Matt and ended up talking about only Matt and how my dad knew he was the one before I even brought him home.

    So, Matt and I talked about potential times to get married and how that would work and when to get engaged. We planned on getting married in October which quickly turned into to August, and getting engaged in June or July which quickly turned into ASAP. I had been “almost engaged” twice before and although this felt different, I was still a little apprehensive. I knew things were really going to happen the day that Matt canceled his annual, beloved fishing trip to Alaska so we could have that money for our honeymoon. We went ring shopping a few days later and visited the temple together for our date night – which was a really special experience for me and just really confirmed everything I already knew and felt.

    We picked out the ring on April 25th and I tried oh so hard to not spend all my time speculating on when and how he was going to propose, but also, it was pretty much always on my mind. I limited myself to telling two friends a day that I was getting married because I was so excited and couldn’t wait to tell them, but I also wanted a chance to make it official before I told the entire world. One night, Matt and I drove up to our favorite park and he told me that he’d picked up the ring a few days before, had plans to propose, and realized that they had given him the wrong ring! As I cried about how I just wanted to be engaged already, he told me about how they’d put our stone in the wrong model and they’d used the last ring they had in the correct model. There was one more in Washington and they were going to overnight it for him the next week, but it would still take a while before they could set the stone. Which meant we’d get it the following Friday.

    On Mother’s Day, May 10th, 2015 (still a solid 6 days before we were expecting the ring to be finished) we had gone out to his mom’s house for lunch and as we finished eating, he asked me what I wanted to do that afternoon. I suggested a drive through Logan canyon and he said “Do you want to go to Bear Lake?” So we headed off to check both of those items off of our “dating bucket list” we had created a few weeks prior.

    We drove all around the North part of Bear Lake, up into Idaho, and around to the east side. As we drove, I was telling him all about how I was so happy I knew when the ring was coming so I didn’t have to wonder any more. And how I loved surprises, but maybe they’re silly for engagements when you really do know you’re about to be proposed to, so you’re suspicious of everything anyway… (I blabbed about this for the entire drive.)

    Matt played along and kept driving until we found a place to park on the east shore of the lake. We walked down to the water and hugged each other, talked, and just enjoyed the scenery. As we stood there, I thought “It’s really a shame that the ring won’t be here until next weekend, this would be such a perfect time to propose!” I wondered if he’d propose with a fake ring, but decided that wasn’t his style and focused on the conversation again. Then, he turned me around to face Logan Canyon off in the distance and asked me which spot in the mountains was the canyon. I thought “Too bad he doesn’t have the ring, this would be the perfect distraction for him to get it out of his pocket, but there’s no way he has it, so really we’re just talking about the dumb canyon.”

    I turned around to hug him again and he got down on one knee and held out the ring box as I said “Are you serious???” I was shocked. He opened the box and I saw that it was the real ring and I said “Where did you get that!?” He smiled and asked me to marry him. I nodded, said yes before he could even finish his sentence, and started to cry.

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  • InBowling Ball Day, True Stories

    Bowling Ball Day: The Ten Year Anniversary

    Today is a pretty special day for me. If you’ve never heard of Bowling Ball Day, welcome. 🙂 It’s likely that that means we’re new friends. Here’s the short version: 10 years ago today, a bowling ball fell off the top of a flag pole on my head. And I’ve celebrated this day ever since.

    It was March of 2007, my second semester of college. I was visiting some friends in Tremonton for spring break. My friend, Christina had suggested that we go to a privately owned park called “Marble Park”. She insisted the barbed wire collection was a must-see. So, we went. The park is a sculpture park featuring a lot of cool things:  swings made from old tractor seats, chairs made from barrels and wheels, and the infamous barbed wire collection. We decided to gather the group together for some pictures. We all climbed up onto three platforms. My friends Ashli, Mac, and I stood on the middle platform which had a flag pole coming out of it and was about 5 feet tall.

    Ashli and I on the platform with the flagpole.

    While taking the pictures, we noticed that the flagpole was kind of wobbly. It had been cemented into the platform, but looked as though it had come loose over the years. Mac started pushing on it, and just as I said (teasing, of course) “wouldn’t it be funny if I fell off?” a bowling ball fell from it’s perch on the top of the flag pole and onto my head.

    If you look at the top of the flagpole in the background, you can see the bowling ball in its prongs.

    I was knocked unconscious and fell off the platform. (This is a good thing because otherwise, it’s likely that I would have tried to catch myself and could have broken my arms.) Once on the ground, I regained consciousness, had a seizure, and threw up. (Lime green throw up, because I’d had Jones Green Apple Soda. TMI? Sorry.) My friends called 911 and explained that I had been hit on the head. “By what?” the operator asked. After looking around to find the culprit, Ashli eventually said “Um, a bowling ball.”

    I was taken in an ambulance to the Bear River Hospital where they were worried about my spinal fluid leaking into my brain, so I was then lifeflighted to the University of Utah Neuro Care Clinic. One of the few moments of all of this that I actually remember happened in the helicopter. I remember watching the propellers start to spin, and one of the paramedics closed the door on my arm – so my arm was trapped between the door and my stretcher. I looked up at him and said “um, my arm…” and they quickly opened the door again and placed my arm on top of me.

    The physicians at the Neuro Care Clinic determined that I had a severe concussion and my skull was fractured from front to back. You know how babies’ skulls are in two parts when they’re born and that’s why they have a soft-spot? I essentially just broke that open again. After four days in the hospital and eight staples in my head, I got to go home. I was on Loritab for a week, and then I went back to school. A few weeks later, I went to have my staples removed and the doctor told me I was doing surprisingly great and the concussion was gone. To this day, the only lasting damage is the quarter-sized scar on top of my head.

    So, that’s the story of Bowling Ball Day. I love celebrating this day because it makes me feel special. Knowing how many people came to visit me in the hospital, prayed for me, took pictures with posters and sippy cups (long story) for me really just warms my heart. And knowing that, by some miracle, I didn’t die – that’s something that makes me feel things I’ve never been able to truly explain. Some of it is simply gratitude for the blessing of being alive and for feeling like I have a purpose for still being here. And also, in many sacred ways, this experience brought me closer to God. I believe in angels. The ones here on earth and the unseen angels that I believe were there 10 years ago.

    Oh, and also, it’s pretty funny. I mean, who does this even happen to?

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