Tara's # 7: The Story of Us

First, this is a long post, so I forgive you for skimming or skipping out on this one, but I just felt like writing and couldn't resist making this my longest post yet. Second, I know, I skipped Dave but this week is our five year anniversary and since our rapid fire posting ended up being a bit slow-paced, I didn't want to miss the perfect opportunity to tell The Story of Us.

"We" started in NYC and without the Big City I don't know how the two of us could have found each other. After being introduced by Dave's roommates and enduring countless singles activities together, Dave finally asked me out. Our first date was to a rodeo in Queens. Dave's choice, not mine. I am not sure where I stand on rodeo's but I wanted to get to know Dave so much, that I threw my reservations to the wind and went. After bonding while mastering the mechanical bull together, we were off to a solid start.

Although our first date occurred in November of 2000, we didn't get married until May 24, 2003, so the solid start got a little shaky, at least for a bit. I must admit that most of the shakiness was due to me trying to figure out that it really was the best thing to marry my best friend. In all of my vacillations, Dave was a pretty remarkable. He was constant, but not clingy, sure, but also a bit mysterious. Best of it all, in our "breaks" he moved on (but, not really). In May of 2002, I took a vacation with some girlfriends to California while Dave and I were on one of our "breaks". While it wasn't meant to be a romantic discovery mission for me, it became just that. I returned with a firm resolve that this time we must date, really date and figure the whole marriage thing out.

I was worried when I returned that Dave wouldn't be as enthusiastic as me about my new resolve, considering that on our last heart to heart I had told him that it was never going to happen and to move on. Undaunted, I determined to talk to him about it that very night. I called him when I got back and asked if he wanted to go to the movies. After, we walked home to my apartment and on the steps I was trying to muster all my courage to ask him to date me again and then, he did it. He asked me. Dave looked me in the eyes and said, "Tara, let's date. I mean really date." The Lord had been pulling some major strings for me behind the scenes. Dave felt that he needed to ask me again, but was also convinced that it wasn't going to happen. When I responded "okay", Dave looked at me with this perplexed look on his face and asked, "Why?". After all my vacillations, I had to do some convincing that I was really into it this time. And I was.

After I made my decision to really date Dave, it came easy. A couple weeks later, I wandered into church late and as usual didn't have my glasses with me (What, you say, Tara wears glasses? Well, I'm supposed too, but rarely do and am blind as a bat without them). The meeting had started and had gotten pretty solemn, but I stood in the door and continued to scan the crowd for Dave when all of a sudden I saw him across the congregation stand up and wave to me with both arms above his head. It sounds crazy, but at that instant I was filled with such a rush of love for him that it was shocking. I knew it. He was the one for me. Not only was he looking out for me when I didn't know it, he was even willing to make a clown of himself on my behalf and then when I sat down next to him he gave me such a winning smile that I knew I had to marry this guy.

We got engaged along the East Side River in February 2003. The infamous site of our almost first kiss, that Dave just calls a short electric shock as our lips just brushed, followed by the shove off and a "Let's talk". After we went to dinner—where we went on our first dinner date—at an Indian restaurant in the Village, Baluchi's. New Yorkers will laugh at this because at the time we thought we had found the most authentic, unique Indian place in town. Years later, we realized that Baluchi's dot the map of Manhattan, and while the food is delish, it's quite commercial. While there, Dave read me excepts from his journal while we were dating—first impressions, first time he knew he was in love, first time he knew he was going to marry me. The night was perfect. When I got home I celebrated with the roomies, so loudly that the neighbors called the police (Not the first time, mind you, they liked to do that sort of thing for any celebration , particularly birthday parties).

Four months later we were sealed for time and all eternity in the Oakland temple. It was an incredible day and my face still hurts thinking of all the grinning I did. I still can't believe all the wonderful support we had from NYC friends. Meredith, Lillian, Laura, Noelle, Lisa Farr, Lisa DeSpain, Brent, Mike, Jen, Heidi, Barrett and many more made the trip to the West Coast to see our day. I knew that I loved Dave when I married him, but I was totally unprepared for the surge of love I felt for him right after sealing the deal. My love for him increased ten fold in one day and has kept growing ever since. Maybe not so dramatically as that day, but incrementally it creeps up on me and every once in awhile it shakes me up to think that I almost didn't choose him.

So five years later, and one little wee with us, I just want to thank Dave again for sticking with it and being mine. I can't wait to know him in 20 years, 40 years, 60 years and forever.

Tara's #6 Manhattan, New York Temple

Okay folks, we arrived in California at last and as you can see our visions of completing our top ten moments in NYC before we left, were reduced to recording only our initial top 5.5 momnts in NYC. At this point, it seems a little anticlimactic and nostalgic in a desperate we-can't-move-on way (which we can't and needs an entire post altogether) to finish the rest our our memories when we should be recording our new experiences in sunny Southern California. To make sure that our final five moments do not go unrecorded, here are the final five of the best of the rest in rapid succession. We then promise to start posting about our new life in the Desert.

Without further ado, Tara's #6: Manhattan, New York Temple. Often times, non-NYers are amazed when they hear that there are many people of genuine faith in NYC. I think people are even more surprised to hear that there is something about NYC that inclines people to take a closer look at God. Dave and I have often commented how many intensely personal and spiritual moments we have had on the busy sidewalks, in the park and even on the subway in the city. There is something about being among so many people that makes you aware, in a very real way, that we are all connected and there is a larger plan for us in this life than we could have ever imagined for ourselves.

That said, when you are seeking those moments of solitude and peace you might more easily find elsewhere where quiet spots abound, they can be hard to create spontaneously in the city. Members of the LDS church, have several churches around the city but until June 13, 2004 did not have a temple–the most sacred of our buildings. So sacred to us, in fact, that we call it the House of the Lord. The dedication of our temple across the street from Lincoln Center was an incredible experience, but in March of 2002 I had my first experience with the NYC temple. The leader of our church at that time, President Gordon B. Hinckley, came to the NY and spoke at a special regional conference. While there he said that he didn't know where but that we would have a temple in New York state in the next two years. Dave and I were dating then and sitting together at the meeting, so I turned to him and said that I felt that the temple would be built in the city in the building that we were sitting in. At the time, I thought that it was kind of a crazy thought and the corner of 65th and Columbus was not exactly the typical locale for a temple, but it felt right so I said it. About six months later it was announced that the temple would be built on that exact site.

In reflection, I think God was already connecting me to the temple in preparation for some of the amazing real-life moments I would experience with God in that building. Shortly after it was opened, I was asked to volunteer to clean the temple and before I knew it I was in charge of the cleaning crew on Saturday nights. It was such a serene experience to wander around after hours unatteneded in the House of the Lord, even with a vacuum in hand. Later, Dave and I were asked to work in the temple on Tuesday nights. The peace I felt seeing others come to the temple for the first time, or even the 100th time, still amazes me. Many times, I felt a love for strangers that was not like anything I had ever known before and understood things more clearly about myself and my strengths and weaknesses (and miraculously felt empowered by it, which is so unlike my "normal", depressing self assessments). My first real conversation with Claire occurred in the temple when I was pregnant and for just a moment I got a glimpse of who this remarkable young lady will be.

Someone spoke in church once about how Jesus Christ always went to desert places to rededicate himself to God, find clarity and recommit to his mission in life. In the lesson, he encouraged us to find our "desert places" in life, where we can grow closer to the Lord and find out more what his plan is for us. I am so grateful that I found a spot for me, on a busy street of NYC (not far from Times Square) where I can and have experienced God first hand.

#5.5 Fit for Shame

And the winner is (was)...

1st Brent, 2nd James, 3rd Ryan, 4th David (I know, the contest must have been rigged) and 5th and last, Barrett. The contest was really to stay out of last place because last place had to ride the subway in a Speedo. After the shock of losing, Barrett made a few phone calls. One of them was to his boss, who expressed his concern over potential video footage that could be presented to the world. He felt that the Apprentice Prank (see the Greatest Prank Ever) was enough to undermine him in the business world. Thus, started the negotiations between Barrett and the rest of us. After much discussion, we were each offered flat screen TV's and I personally sold out at a 32". The saddest part of the challenge is the fact that Barrett, the creator of the challenge, will not create or participate in future challenges. We may have crushed his spirit.

Dave's #5 Fit For Shame

So how do you stay fit? Well, some buddies and I tried a couple years ago to do it through FEAR and SHAME. As the pictures will soon reveal, I might as well name names, Ryan, James, Brent, Barrett and me (Dave). After several weeks of negotiations, we decided the loser of the challenge would put on a speedo, get on the #6 Train and ride it the length of the city. This holds a little more weight and humiliation after knowing this is the same group that put together the "Apprentice Prank". The film footage was going to be easy pickin's and the end product another great video.

The challenge was simple, first, take BEFORE & AFTER pictures then give the pictures to professional trainers that would then rank them from BEST to WORST. The rankings would be based not on who has the best body, but on who has the MOST IMPROVED BODY. This was the major part of the final score at 50% (and also what Barrett was counting on for the victory). The remaining 50% of the race would be tallied on three physical races a 1/4 mile swim, a 6 mile bike race and a 1.6 mile run in Central Park.

We each agreed to the terms and then the three month race was on. Barrett started training by drinking 3000 calorie shakes composed of whipping cream, James hit the pool, Ryan lifted some weights, I hit the bike track and Brent looked for some older and more out of shape pictures with his shirt off. When our training was complete, we all met in NYC for the competition.

The First Event - 1/4 Mile Swim
At the pool, strangers caught wind of our race decided to put odds on their favorite. They all looked at Barrett and his fine-tuned body and was picked as the trifecta favorite. The shot was fired and we were all wet, but not all of us were necessarily swimming. James had almost lapped us and took first, Brent and I battled for 2nd but on the last lap I passed him and silver was mine. Brent then took bronze and Ryan and the piano he was dragging took 4th. Barrett floated in last and waved off the life guard has she was reaching for the life guard pole. The spectators all looked on in shock.

The Second Event - 6 Mile Bike Race

Ready, Get Set, Go! Brent and I set out first like a champion drafting team. Ryan hung on tightly behind like a barnacle. James was no where to be seen and had long faded into the back ground. Barrett disappeared almost immediately. Later on, we learned that after a lazy and false first effort, Barrett short-cut across the park and hid in the bushes at mile five. His plan was to wait for us to come around the corner then jump in for the last mile sprint. Barrett's wily plan was brilliant, the only problem was that by the time he had come back to mile 5 and set up shop to watch for us, we had already passed him and finished the race. Barrett doesn't do much while waiting in the bushes, so we will get back to him a little later—he isn't going anywhere. Brent's desire to gain a little glory on the bike track lead him into taking the lead and cutting a delicious and unrestricted path for me. Breaking into mile 5, we looked back to find the barnacle was hot on our trail and catching up fast. My fresh legs kicked in but left Brent to fend for himself. Ryan passed him by the MET, but I held him off for the victory. 8-10 minutes later, James came strolling up like he was riding a Puerto Rican tricked out bike, smiling and ringing his bell. I am tempted to believe that he forgot that he was racing. 20-30 minutes later there was still no sign of Barrett and we figured he was lost. Tara and Anita got worried, and got on the bikes to go and look for the Wily Coyote. They find him bent over a bush and acting like he has just thrown-up. This will not be the last time that the Wily Coyote lites the fuse and throws the stick of dynamite over the cliff, but mysteriously finds it has returned to his hand.

The Third Event - 1.6 Mile Run
Holding off Ryan in the biking race emptied my tanks, but since James had just rested on his tricked out bike for six miles he was fresh as a dew-filled morning. Brent was out for blood and Barrett was still more interested in having us believe that he was sick so that he wouldn't be questioned about his whereabouts on the last race. James and Brent took off first, with Ryan falling behind them a bit but keeping a respectable pace. My 1st place bike finish and noodle legs kept pace with Barrett for about 1/3 of a mile. Barrett would have loved to take a 4th place finish if only for pride's sake, but as the heavy whipping cream flowed through Barrett's heart it suddenly turned into butter and blew a gasket and the race is over. Damn, he looks great, but he didn't manage to finish better than 5th in any ONE of the races. The final tally from the foot race had James in 1st, Brent 2nd, Ryan 3rd, me 4th and Barrett 5th (for the 3rd time that day).

Well, you may think Barrett is worried at this point, NO WAY! This entire race was his brain child and design. As planned, 50% of the entire competition would come from the BEFORE & AFTER photos. He still had a very good chance at victory, well, if not victory, a respectable placing. For the last three months, he hadn't dared run, bike or swim for fear that he might loose a little muscle, or water weight, for the final photos.

I will not reveal the final results for the Fit for Shame competition until Sunday, April 20, and against my better judgment and the counsel of the "Illegal Skin Bronzer Alliance", I am now posting below our BEFORE & AFTER pics for your perusal. Take a moment and rank the five contestants, (in photo order James, Brent, Barrett, Ryan and me) from BEST to WORST. Remember the challenge is based on the MOST IMPROVEMENT. Let's see if you all judge the results the same way that the professional trainers judged the results.

Tara's #4 Big City Lights and Big City Baby

When I was a kid, I drove across the desert with my Grandma Beth, my sister Marissa and my brother Jared. In order to keep us occupied on the long trip my grandma played all sorts of road trip games with us. She must have ran out of games—with three squirmy kids in tow that equals trouble—because she started making us "gifts", contingent on us being good until we reached our destination. These promised gifts weren't the typical road trip gas station treats and Made in China whatnots, but something only a time-tested mother could dream up.

To my sister, Grandma Beth promised the sound of the sea, to my brother she promised the first snowfall and to me she promised the glow of the city lights at night. Grandma Beth explained that every time we saw, felt or heard our "gifts" we would know that they are our gift alone from her. I was captivated by her "gift " and became even more charmed by it when we passed by the twinkling lights of Las Vegas at night just a few hours later.

Years later, when I saw the lights of New York for the first time. I knew they were mine and felt an immediate affinity with the city. It may sound like a trite experience, but it was one of the major factors in my decision to move to New York.

Fast forward to 16 months ago, when Claire was just a few hours old. Claire was born at Mt. Sinai Hospital on the Upper East Side. She was born shortly before 11pm and by the time we got to our room it was well after midnight. Dave had to leave after a short visit, so Claire and I spent our first night together alone. My adrenaline was pumping way to hard to even think of sleep. I held my baby at first in bed and then even managed to stand up for a bit to show her the world outside our window. Our room overlooked the Central Park Reservoir and had an amazing view of the Upper West Side. It was then, with my newborn baby in my arms and looking out at the crisp glimmer of the city lights at night, that I gave Claire "my gift". It just felt right. It was hers all along. My big city baby.

Dave's #3 An Unforgettable Day

The first place I met Tara was on the observation deck of the World Trade Center Tower #2 . That was the beginning of a three year chase that eventually ended in us getting married. At the time, I would have never have thought our on-again off-again romance, would out last the World Trade Center.

A couple years after I met Tara, my mom, dad and sister, MaRea, came into town to visit. My father wanted take my sister, MaRea, to visit the "top of the world". We debated back and forth if we should go visit the World Trade Center on 9/10/01 or if we should wait until 9/11/01, when the weather was forecast to be perfect and visibility endless.

For whatever reason, my dad talked us into going on 9/10/01. That day, as my father and I ascended the escalator leading to the outside observation deck we wondered out loud how long the WTC would be around. I asked him if he thought it would be here in a 100 years? As an experienced builder, he responded that it was definitely possible for them to last that long and that if they actually wanted to deconstruct the two buildings it would be an enormous feat.

On "top of the world", the city looked proud, fearless and beautiful—like the New York that Frank Sinatra sang about. After only 15 minutes on the outdoor observation deck, the wind picked up and security sent us down to the glass observation deck on the 109th floor. After retreating to the 109th floor, we looked out over the Hudson River toward Staten Island where massive dark storm clouds were building and coming toward us fast. We continued to watch through the protective glass as the ominous storm rolled over us.

The next morning one of my roommates called and told me to look out the window toward downtown and the WTC. From my apartment window on the 19th floor, my family and I could see the smoke and flames coming from the WTC North Tower. We quickly turned on the TV, but got little information outside of the possibility that a small plane had just hit the North Tower. Shortly thereafter, the second plane hit and things changed instantly to panic on the airwaves. Immediately, it became apparent that this was no accident. Later, as we watched the TV coverage, the first tower collapsed. We ran to the window and couldn't see anything but smoke and dust and then only ONE tower standing where just seconds ago two stood so prominently. This is literally the only time in my life that despite seeing something with my own two eyes, I didn’t believe it. It held no more truth than a big budget Hollywood movie—incredibly, the drama kept on rolling. In less than one and a half hours, both towers had fallen, the Pentagon had been hit by a third plane, and another plane flown into the ground in Pennsylvania.

America's innocence had been stolen—well, at least to me, it had. Pearl Harbor, and the 2,404 people that died there, was part of the past for me. But now, 2,998 people from over 80 different countries had just died in MY city. The tragedy was real, immediate and all around me.

Silent, with only the sound of sirens, is the best way I know to describe the city over the next few days. Remarkably, it wasn't an eerie silence. It was the silence of the greatest city in the world on its knees praying. New Yorkers were reverent—a term you never hear associated with descriptions of this vibrant city or it people. There was a willingness to help, talk, and slow down that characterized the city for months after.

A couple of days after the towers fell, I went over to visit Tara. It was an amazingly clear and crisp September day. As we walked down the street we saw Tara's neighbor sitting on the front steps of his building in his filthy fireman's uniform. His face, hair, clothes and boots were all stained with white soot and ash from the World Trade Center. We watched him weep, with tears of joy streaming down his face, as he held his newborn baby girl for the first time. I force myself not to forget the death and destruction that occurred in New York City that day, but the most powerful and unforgettable image from September 11, 2001 for me will forever be that soot-stained firefighter and his new baby girl.

 

Tara's #2 The Summer of the Boat

Everyone knows a car, specifically a large car, is absolutely incongruous with NYC way of life (for practical reasons why see my post Why I Heart Dave). While a car is mainly unsuitable for city dwellers on a budget, a boat might be described as heretical (unless of course you are a multi-millionaire, which we aren't, ask our tax accountant—oops, that's Dave, since we can't afford a tax accountant). So how did these two items end up on our doorstep? Enter Dave, my unstoppable husband who had a dream. After spending too many summers in the humid NYC heat with no escape in sight, Dave had had enough. He started by spending countless office hours (thank you for your generosity of spirit NeighborhoodSpice) surfing every website imaginable for a boat. Not any run-of-the-mill boat, mind you, but a top-of-the-line wake board water skiing boat.

The search continued and at last, with Maurice's help (thank you for your generosity of spirit AIG) the perfect piece of equipment was found—a Mastercraft X30. How might you ask could we afford a boat and a truck to pull it if we can't even afford a tax accountant? Good question. I asked the same thing, several times. "Details, details" was about the best response I could get. Once the boat was located, Dave set out hard core to figure out how to work out the other "details". He went to deep and shallow pocket friends first and tried to sell the idea of "The Summer of the Boat". The idea was simple: purchase a time-share boat and truck at the beginning of the season and sell it at the end of the season. Unfortunately, this idea, although sold hard, did not take root.

On to plan B, get Sid (Dave's prosperous, but frugal father) to buy a new truck and a family boat and then let us keep it for the summer. This was going to be an up hill battle and Dave knew he would have to use every Thatcher salesmanship trick in the book to pitch this one to his dad. Salesmanship is akin to a form of art at the Thatcher household. I have literally heard several debates where the Thatcher clan argues over who is the best salesman in the house. And none is as legendary, or as gutsy, of a salesman as Sid himself (ask Dave to tell you the story of Sid's inspiring sales trip to Germany).

I won't get into the miraculous details, but after a week of persistent cold calling Sid, Dave had the go ahead to get the boat and a brand new black GMC crew cab HD2500 to pull it—financed exclusively by Sid. Still to this day, Dave and I marvel about the divine intervention it took to achieve this unbelievable coup. Truck and boat in hand, our summer was off to a brilliant start.

Rather than sweating it out in Central Park, we spent the weekends and many mornings before work in the Hudson River and in upstate NY lakes. The boat even accompanied us to Maine that summer for a glorious Fourth of July with our good friends, the Jensens. Anita, Brent, McClain, Maurice, Lillian, Ian, Laurel and even Cody (outfitted in her doggie life vest) were found sunning themselves or wake boarding, wake surfing or skiing with us on most weekends, but many others joined us too. Those of you who live in wide open spaces and have access to all the recreational devices God intended for man, will never understand the freedom of driving in the skyscraper canyons of NYC in a truck, pulling a 25 foot yellow boat, headed for the nearest body of water. By far, it was the BEST. SUMMER. EVER.