Our Story
It's pretty much the same as everyone else's, just different.
In the beginning there was a cookie...
If we are going to be technical, the truth is that Abe and I actually first met each other at the end of August of 2008. Two of our friends from church invited me to a cookie-making party for Abe. I had just finished my very first day of college at SUNY Potsdam and was shell-shocked. Abe was going to Peru the next day on a mission for the church and would remain there for two years. Needless to say, neither of us really paid that much attention to each other.
Over the two years that he was gone, I politely wrote to him two or three times, because I know it's important for missionaries to have mail, and received one letter from him in return. Apparently, the mail is terrible in Peru... Eventually I just figured that my highly prized letters were wasted on him and I didn't try to write to him.
Meanwhile, I became very good friends with Abe's sister, Crystal. We would try to get together as often as possible and, as often as possible, Crystal mentioned her "amazing" brother, Abe. I was teased endlessly that Abe and I would marry. I happen to be stubborn as a mule and I secretly vowed that I would never like Abe as more than my friend's older brother. No one sets me up with her brother and gets away with it, I thought!
Time passed, Crystal went to BYU: Provo, and eventually Abe came back to Potsdam in August 2010. I did my best to avoid meeting him, but I couldn't put it off forever unless I stopped going to church. That seemed a bit extreme, so meet him again I did. He was exactly what I expected/remembered: tall, quiet, having decidedly Myler-ite features, and a great selection of ties. I smiled at him for a moment, asked him how he was readjusting to life in the United States, considered hugging him just to see him squirm uncomfortably, and then flounced away.
I did my best to avoid him for the next month or so, but he seemed to be everywhere. I think I rolled my eyes when I saw him in two of my classes on the second day of the Fall semester. I sat as far away from him as was tactful. However, after a few weeks, something weird happened- I noticed that we were actually spending more time together. There were the many church activities, being in the same building all day, being in the Opera Ensemble production together, and him somehow convincing me to have dinner with him rather frequently. I distinctly remember thinking during one dinner conversation, "You know, this isn't so bad. Maybe we could be friends after all..."
Perhaps after maybe a month of those thoughts, I would have figured out that I liked him. I would have tried to flirt with him, we would both be awkwardly aware that I didn't have a clue what I was doing and then maybe he would have asked me on a date. After a few of those, maybe we would decide that we should date each other exclusively, instead of just as a fun activity. This is how life was supposed to work.
Things were thrown into overdrive one night when we had dinner at a professor (who also happens to be a leader in our church)'s house with the rest of our class. Dinner was great, the professor teased me about dating Abe, I resorted to talking about the music theory behind crystal glasses, and the evening continued swimmingly. Then came the movie portion of the evening.
Over the two years that he was gone, I politely wrote to him two or three times, because I know it's important for missionaries to have mail, and received one letter from him in return. Apparently, the mail is terrible in Peru... Eventually I just figured that my highly prized letters were wasted on him and I didn't try to write to him.
Meanwhile, I became very good friends with Abe's sister, Crystal. We would try to get together as often as possible and, as often as possible, Crystal mentioned her "amazing" brother, Abe. I was teased endlessly that Abe and I would marry. I happen to be stubborn as a mule and I secretly vowed that I would never like Abe as more than my friend's older brother. No one sets me up with her brother and gets away with it, I thought!
Time passed, Crystal went to BYU: Provo, and eventually Abe came back to Potsdam in August 2010. I did my best to avoid meeting him, but I couldn't put it off forever unless I stopped going to church. That seemed a bit extreme, so meet him again I did. He was exactly what I expected/remembered: tall, quiet, having decidedly Myler-ite features, and a great selection of ties. I smiled at him for a moment, asked him how he was readjusting to life in the United States, considered hugging him just to see him squirm uncomfortably, and then flounced away.
I did my best to avoid him for the next month or so, but he seemed to be everywhere. I think I rolled my eyes when I saw him in two of my classes on the second day of the Fall semester. I sat as far away from him as was tactful. However, after a few weeks, something weird happened- I noticed that we were actually spending more time together. There were the many church activities, being in the same building all day, being in the Opera Ensemble production together, and him somehow convincing me to have dinner with him rather frequently. I distinctly remember thinking during one dinner conversation, "You know, this isn't so bad. Maybe we could be friends after all..."
Perhaps after maybe a month of those thoughts, I would have figured out that I liked him. I would have tried to flirt with him, we would both be awkwardly aware that I didn't have a clue what I was doing and then maybe he would have asked me on a date. After a few of those, maybe we would decide that we should date each other exclusively, instead of just as a fun activity. This is how life was supposed to work.
Things were thrown into overdrive one night when we had dinner at a professor (who also happens to be a leader in our church)'s house with the rest of our class. Dinner was great, the professor teased me about dating Abe, I resorted to talking about the music theory behind crystal glasses, and the evening continued swimmingly. Then came the movie portion of the evening.
In the not so beginning was a French art film
(By Abe)
So, dinner being over I casually walked over to one of only free seats left in the living room, prepared to enjoy the film. A few minutes later Caitlin came over and sat next to me. I decided this was a good sign. Now the couch may have been designed for three people and there were four of us, but hey, the place was packed, so we'd have to make do.
After trying to make myself as skinny as possible by various forms of slouching and squirming and having no success, I decided that as long as were there I might as well just cut to the chase. So, I reached up for the classic "stretch" and whispered to Caitlin sitting next to me, "I think we'll ALL be a little more comfortable if I did THIS..."
Suave? No. Effective? Highly.
For the record, we did all fit better...
She didn't throw my arm off her and squeal, so I counted that as a good sign as well.
We watched the rest of the movie quite comfortably.(Caitlin: Perhaps physically... Actually, I don't think I ever really relaxed. I was torn between absorption in the film and an extensive examination of his thought process. The real question being: did he expect me to hold his hand and would I be able to karate chop him fast enough if he tried to kiss me?)
So the next day was general conference Saturday, and several days before we had decided to make pies at my house to take to the pot luck (she didn't realize that I was asking her to go on a date. Heh.)
So she came over, looking as adorable as ever, and we made pies. No arm around the shoulder here, because she wasn't saying anything about the Art Film Festival the night before and I needed to test the waters. Again. (Caitlin: Probably the second most nerve-wracking morning of my life. Words cannot express how relieved I was when he didn't "try anything". It seemed pretty normal. Especially when his mom came over and told me all about his childhood disobedience.)
So, pies made, it was off to the church for General Conference. I decided to sit next to Caitlin. About ten minutes in I noticed that she was going through all sorts of contortions to keep her hands warm. So, being the kind person that I am, I offered, "Would you like me to keep one of your hands warm for you?"
Suave? Highly. Effective? Well, I mean, we're getting married...
A coy smile and maybe a little bit of a giggle later, her hands were a little bit warmer. Okay, a lot warmer.
After conference one of our favorite branch members came over and said, "I'm sure people have already talked about this," (large hand-gesture that encompassed the two of us) "but for the record, I think it's great." After many more congratulations (Caitlin: I was a little shell-shocked and it took me a few days to realize what they were all so happy about.) and four more sessions of conference, we decided to take the next step: we became Facebook official.
Things went swimmingly for the next three and half weeks. A long time, right? Then we were having dinner one Friday night and Caitlin starts talking about how when she gets engaged, she wants her great-grandmother's engagement ring, that her mom has possession of. This comment surprised me, but I decided to archive it for future reference. Near future. (Caitlin: As long as we're trying to stick to the OFFICIAL record, I just would like to say that I was in no way, shape, or form trying to hint at anything. I think we were probably talking about how much I like white-gold jewelry instead of yellow-gold. I have always always always wanted that ring, whether it was for engagement purposes or not. That is all.)
So, the next day, being Halloween, Caitlin said something about me being able to wait for her while she was on a mission. Well, as long as she brought it up... I suggested that she marry me instead. I didn't have a ring, but somehow the question was effective anyway. By 'effective', I mean she looked at me in shock and told me she'd think about it. I suggested she pray about it and maybe even fast about it. She agreed, then I went home.
The next morning she arrived at church at the same time I did, smiling politely. I could not interpret her smile. HMM, I gave her some space, and by 'space', I mean I gave her two inches. Sacrament meeting ended and she quickly went off to Primary, and I scratched my head and went to Sunday school. I was very nervous.
Church ended. She smiled politely at me again and I gave her a ride back to campus. We saw each other two hours later and she asked me how I was doing. I thought to myself, "How do you THINK I'm doing? Will you say something, for Pete's sake?" I told her I was kind of nervous. A coy smile and a little bit of a giggle later, we were engaged. Secretly.
In the beginning there was no ring.
Caitlin:
Quick back-up. So, Halloween night, I let Abe sit for a bit in my room because he had thrown out his back pretending to play for the NBA. As he sat there, cradling his back like a man accustomed to rheumatoid arthritis I thought, "You know, he's not so bad. I'd like to stay with him for a bit longer." That worried me, because we all know that returned missionaries are eager to be called to the next "mission" in life: marriage. To avoid the topic, I started talking about serving a mission, which I had always intended to do since I was about twelve years old. I wouldn't leave for another year or so and then I would be gone wherever God wanted me for eighteen months. If he was still here when I got back, that would be nice. Abe looked at me- how else to describe it other than 'softly'? "It would only be three years," I remember saying to him. He said, "That's a long time, Caitie," which was the expected response. What I didn't expect was, "Marry me instead." I, of course, spluttered and gasped and told him in various ways that he was crazy. After a few minutes of this behaviour, I told solemnly told him that I would think about it. I think he could tell that I was feeling pretty dubious about getting an answer to my prayers and fasting that would be anything other than, "Heck no!"
So, I made him go away and almost immediately, I hit my knees. Basically, I asked for an answer to this question that I couldn't possibly answer on my own, that would come to me the next day during church. I was a little too shaken up to really take any answer I would have received that night seriously. As I neared the end of my prayer I added, "Oh! And we both know that I'm really slow. Is it pushing it if I ask for a physical sign too? Like, I'll know that I should marry Abe if it snows in the morning." I ended my prayer and hopped into bed, feeling rather peaceful. Poor Abe, I thought. He'll be pretty disappointed when I have to tell him 'no'.
The next morning, with the air of a child on Christmas morning (except, I wasn't expecting any presents) the first thing I did was open my blinds. It was snowing. My mouth dropped open into an incredulous grin, complete with cocked eyebrows. After about a minute of staring at large snowflakes drifting from the sky, I shut my blinds thinking, "I'll wait until I go to church to get a REAL answer."
Quick back-up. So, Halloween night, I let Abe sit for a bit in my room because he had thrown out his back pretending to play for the NBA. As he sat there, cradling his back like a man accustomed to rheumatoid arthritis I thought, "You know, he's not so bad. I'd like to stay with him for a bit longer." That worried me, because we all know that returned missionaries are eager to be called to the next "mission" in life: marriage. To avoid the topic, I started talking about serving a mission, which I had always intended to do since I was about twelve years old. I wouldn't leave for another year or so and then I would be gone wherever God wanted me for eighteen months. If he was still here when I got back, that would be nice. Abe looked at me- how else to describe it other than 'softly'? "It would only be three years," I remember saying to him. He said, "That's a long time, Caitie," which was the expected response. What I didn't expect was, "Marry me instead." I, of course, spluttered and gasped and told him in various ways that he was crazy. After a few minutes of this behaviour, I told solemnly told him that I would think about it. I think he could tell that I was feeling pretty dubious about getting an answer to my prayers and fasting that would be anything other than, "Heck no!"
So, I made him go away and almost immediately, I hit my knees. Basically, I asked for an answer to this question that I couldn't possibly answer on my own, that would come to me the next day during church. I was a little too shaken up to really take any answer I would have received that night seriously. As I neared the end of my prayer I added, "Oh! And we both know that I'm really slow. Is it pushing it if I ask for a physical sign too? Like, I'll know that I should marry Abe if it snows in the morning." I ended my prayer and hopped into bed, feeling rather peaceful. Poor Abe, I thought. He'll be pretty disappointed when I have to tell him 'no'.
The next morning, with the air of a child on Christmas morning (except, I wasn't expecting any presents) the first thing I did was open my blinds. It was snowing. My mouth dropped open into an incredulous grin, complete with cocked eyebrows. After about a minute of staring at large snowflakes drifting from the sky, I shut my blinds thinking, "I'll wait until I go to church to get a REAL answer."
By the time I actually arrived at church, the snow had stopped and I was feeling harried. The last thing I wanted to do was think about marrying Abe and I definitely did not want him to take his customary seat next to me, to influence me with his nearness. Despite His mysteriousness, God also works in fairly obvious ways and Abe sat next to me anyways, albeit hesitatingly. I did not try to hold his hands, and he judged my coolness well enough to not offer his to me. As I sat in the service, I literally thought two phrases: "serve a mission" and "marry Abe". I thought the first one and then waited. Nothing. Slightly confused, I then thought the second phrase and BAM! I have only a few times ever felt something was so true and right that it almost literally blew my socks off. Luckily, I was wearing stockings, so I kept it together. I suddenly couldn't stop grinning for the entire day. When I came home from church, I immediately called my mother and cried and danced and convinced her to let me have the perpetually coveted engagement ring. So, yes, my mother knew that I was engaged before my fiance did. The rest of the way Abe tells the story about us meeting later and figuring out what was happening is true. I guess...
So, the reason it was a secret was because how could I tell someone that we were engaged and I didn't have any hard evidence? The world would never have believed our story. Okay, so maybe that's not the ONLY reason it was kept a secret- I was pretty nervous about being twenty and engaged. There are rules about this sort of thing when one wishes to have a performing career. For the next week or so I constantly told Abe (and myself) to wait until Christmas break to tell people officially. My parents came up to visit and decided that it wasn't a bad time to bring up my great-grandmother's engagement ring. Words cannot express the thrill that my nerves experienced when my mother opened the box containing the beautiful ring. Abe and I sized my finger and I trusted the ring to his care "until Christmas". Thinking I had plenty of time until we told the world, I let myself glow a bit. Mysteriously, of course. Little did I know that one and a bit days later, as Abe and I prepared for a dress rehearsal for "On the Town", he would pull me aside into the lobby of the theatre and present a little box to me that had been hidden within the depths of his 1940s-style suit. Panic. I spluttered again, but we both knew the answer and he can be persistent when he needs to be. Somewhat hesitatingly, I accepted. Again.
It wasn't until we were backstage waiting for our respective cues that I really looked at him. He was so calm and - I guess I can only say that the overall effect was beautiful. One of my favourite things about him is that he's always brought me peace and that's exactly what I felt at that moment. Peace and the confidence that is its companion. We knew what we were doing. We still know what we're doing. And we like it. A lot. After the rehearsal, I skipped (Abe took long strides) to a little bridge on campus where he finally slipped the ring on my finger (no jewelry that isn't part of your costume on stage, you know) as snow gently drifted onto our gelled hair. It was around midnight and very few people were around, but I doubt we would have noticed them anyways.
The rest has been a blur of congratulations, tears (of happiness. We don't cry sadly here.), and preparations. We're still trying to plan it all out, but the most important thing is already taken care of. Well, I guess not really until May, but you get the point. Now stop reading this and come to the reception. It'll probably be May by the time you've finished.
So, the reason it was a secret was because how could I tell someone that we were engaged and I didn't have any hard evidence? The world would never have believed our story. Okay, so maybe that's not the ONLY reason it was kept a secret- I was pretty nervous about being twenty and engaged. There are rules about this sort of thing when one wishes to have a performing career. For the next week or so I constantly told Abe (and myself) to wait until Christmas break to tell people officially. My parents came up to visit and decided that it wasn't a bad time to bring up my great-grandmother's engagement ring. Words cannot express the thrill that my nerves experienced when my mother opened the box containing the beautiful ring. Abe and I sized my finger and I trusted the ring to his care "until Christmas". Thinking I had plenty of time until we told the world, I let myself glow a bit. Mysteriously, of course. Little did I know that one and a bit days later, as Abe and I prepared for a dress rehearsal for "On the Town", he would pull me aside into the lobby of the theatre and present a little box to me that had been hidden within the depths of his 1940s-style suit. Panic. I spluttered again, but we both knew the answer and he can be persistent when he needs to be. Somewhat hesitatingly, I accepted. Again.
It wasn't until we were backstage waiting for our respective cues that I really looked at him. He was so calm and - I guess I can only say that the overall effect was beautiful. One of my favourite things about him is that he's always brought me peace and that's exactly what I felt at that moment. Peace and the confidence that is its companion. We knew what we were doing. We still know what we're doing. And we like it. A lot. After the rehearsal, I skipped (Abe took long strides) to a little bridge on campus where he finally slipped the ring on my finger (no jewelry that isn't part of your costume on stage, you know) as snow gently drifted onto our gelled hair. It was around midnight and very few people were around, but I doubt we would have noticed them anyways.
The rest has been a blur of congratulations, tears (of happiness. We don't cry sadly here.), and preparations. We're still trying to plan it all out, but the most important thing is already taken care of. Well, I guess not really until May, but you get the point. Now stop reading this and come to the reception. It'll probably be May by the time you've finished.
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