You Light the Spark to my Bonfire Heart

You light the spark in my bonfire heart

Before you read this post, just take a listen to this song. Pretty please.

I think I knew early on. I think I knew the day you came to my game and watched us beat Seattle in the WAC conference tournament semis. I’d met you a week before. After my family and friends congratulated me, you stood off to the side, smiling to yourself at the ground. Your hands were in your pockets. When you finally made your way to me, you whispered in my ear.

“You know when you wrecked #20 and just got up and walked away like it was nothing? Yeah. That was hot.”

Or maybe it was when we went with a bunch of friends up the canyon to have a fire. We were making s’mores and telling stories when you jumped up and said you needed to get something from the truck. A minute later you emerged into the clearing dragging an axe. Somehow I wasn’t surprised whatsoever. Without giving anyone a chance to say anything you abruptly climbed a nearby tree and began hacking away at one of its dead branches. You said the branch was dead and just in the way, so you needed to fix it up so it looked better.

Your roommate Taylor jokingly said it wasn’t manly unless you were doing it shirtless. With no words or hesitation — but I noticed a slight smile — you ripped your shirt off, threw it to the ground and aggressively continued chopping. I started choking on the chocolate-marshellowy mush in my mouth between uncontrollable laughs. Pieces of graham cracker spewed out with every guffaw.

I think I knew then.

*Cliché warning* I fell hard. I’m talking face down in the concrete from a 60-story building hard. I was vulnerable and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel in control.

Crazy to think that early on I almost broke things off with you only one month into dating because I was POSITIVE I wasn’t nor would be ready at all to get married anytime within the next two years. So, to avoid further attachment and inevitable hurt hearts, I thought I should end things. One night, I was freaking out and crying on the phone to my mom.

I was completely taken aback by her response. She said something along the lines of:

“Brooke... don’t mess this one up.”

I have no doubt she was completely inspired in that moment.   

Given my history and experiences, all I have to say is Heavenly Father sure has a way of letting His children know what He wants them to do — no matter how stubborn or in denial they may be.

So, months later, I found myself up Smithfield Canyon on a hot May day — hands over face and goose bumps on legs — staring wide-eyed down at a Canadian boy who was on one knee asking me a question. THE question. I had chills sooo bad (hence the goose bumps). Amidst the moment of excitement I accidently swallowed my gum (uh oh, looks like it’s stuck in my stomach for seven years). I had to take a big gulp to make sure it wasn’t still stuck in my throat (so I didn’t sound like a smoker-grandma when I responded) and then proceeded to make by far the EASIEST no-brainer decision of my life.

**gulp** “YES! OF COURSE! DUH!”

“People like us

We don’t

Need that much

Just some

One that starts

Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts”

 

Then there was July 13, 2013. The most beautiful and perfect overcast day I think there has ever been on this earth. Obviously I’m biased, but whatever.

I’d pictured this day for my entire life. I’d pictured my hair, my dress, my groom… everything. I just never imagined it would have become a reality so soon. So much sooner than I’d planned my life to play out. But Heavenly Father has a bigger plan than our own personal stubborn agendas.

It was the most beautiful and perfect overcast day. Wait did I already say that? Gawwwwsh. I will save my wedding day details as another blog post entirely… but it was something special.

It was the day we committed to love each other for eternity.

So here’s the thing. Before you, I was happy. Very, very happy actually. It’s not like I was this sad lonely creature or anything. Life was going GREAT. I was happily in my major with great teammates, friends and roommates. I was even kind of dating someone. Kind of. But life was so so good.

But then you.

I didn’t know what I was missing until I had it. But I discovered pretty quickly that thing you had (whatever the heck it was)… yeah I wanted it. I had to have it. I had to have you. Soooo I kinda let the other dude down easy — after just one date with you.

I wasn’t just happy anymore. I was contagiously happy. Smiling and laughing more than normal. Incredibly content with life.

You know that little smile and satisfied sigh you do when you’re by yourself and thinking about something good that’s happened that day? Or maybe you do it after you get a particular text from someone. Or eat something yummy. Whatever. We all do it. Well, I’ve found myself in a habit of doing that a lot ever since you came around. It just happens. No, it’s not like I’m sitting in class day dreaming of you smiling and sighing to myself like an emancipated junior high school girl. I’m smiling and sighing just because. Not even thinking about anything in particular. I’m smiling and sighing because I feel so satisfied with life and where I am. Excited about where I’m going. Smiling and sighing because I just feel so full of happy and love all the time that I just have to breathe some of it out every once in awhile.

You started something. You brought something on. I’m more me. My average happy level has gone up about 40% (…I don’t know, 40% just sounded good). My heart feels like it's grown three sizes. I've cried more happy tears in the past year than in my entire life. My annoying guffaw of a laugh is a little louder.

You started a fire. And it turned into a freaking bonfire. 

“Days like these

Lead to

Nights like this

Lead to

Love like ours

You light the spark in my bonfire heart”

You Called Me Brookali Broccali

Brookali Broccali or Brooklet Monster. You'd call me either, or. I remember once I had some friends over and you called me one of the latter names and I was horrified. So embarrassed. A friend asked, "Wait, what did he call you?" I mumbled I didn't know and proceeded to quickly ask which My Little Pony she wanted to play with.

In Miss Roach's fifth grade p.m. class one day, I overheard one of my classmates telling his friend about how his Dad was "the biggest jerk in the world." He then went on to describe how his Dad was a "meanie" and always yelled, threw things, and made his mom cry. My clueless, freckled 10-year-old self struggled to grasp such a concept. My eyes widened down at my blank notebook paper that was supposed to be filled with sentences summarizing my summer as I instead eavesdropped. Up until then I had paid little attention to the fathers around me besides my own. I guess I thought fathers were universal. I thought they all had handstand contests with their daughters even if it made their back hurt and meant they'd have a headache for the rest of the day. I thought they all came to cheer at track meets and soccer games even if it was hailing. I always had a handmade home lunch every day by you along with personal drawings and messages carved into my bananas.

I watched you kiss mom's neck while you made dinner together. I watched you dance with her in the kitchen to Marvin Gaye while I sat at the table eating cheerios. Once I had a bad dream and wandered into your room to be consoled. I walked in and you and mom were kneeling next to each other by your bed, praying together. Whenever mom was down in her art studio painting, you always made sure none of us kids bothered her. No matter the nagging issue — whether it be asking her to french braid my hair or Derek needing her password on the computer to play starcraft —  you never allowed us to bother her until she was done. I remember being annoyed whenever I asked you what I thought was a simple question and you'd always converse with mom before giving me an answer. Every decision was made together, even if it was only an issue of whether or not I had a sleepover at my friends house.

Without really realizing it, you have been preparing me all along to be a wife and someday a mother. I've learned through your example how I should be loved, and how I deserve to be loved. I will be married to someone in a month who reminds me over and over again of you. The cheesiness of the saying that says "you marry someone just like your father" could not be more applicable. It's the qualities in you that I saw in Chase that initially drew me to him. I have now found someone I know will ALWAYS love me — and keep me laughing the entire time — and I could not be more grateful to you for that, Daddy.

Until that pivotal moment at Brookside Elementary, I assumed all Dads did everything you did. What a crazy assumption, you do so much more.

Now, if I had it my way, you'd always call me Brookali Broccali. Nothing else.

I love you. Happy Fathers day.

Nice like an oversized sweatshirt

Nice like an oversized sweatshirt

I hope you stay awhile. My atrocious guffaw of a laugh slips my lips all to often now at your expense. You all know what I mean—those obnoxious loud bursts of ugliness when something is unexpectedly HILARIOUS. Those just can't be held in. 

Boy, you catch me off guard. 

We were on our crazy bullet bike ride of a second date. Stopped at a red light, I liked your rebellious chuckle as the light turned green and my exhilarated screams were lost in the acceleration. 

It's the rose you casually held hidden behind your back and gave to me as we stood in the street with cars driving by. Three months ago exactly from today, you said. 

I fell for Sasquatch.

Well, the canadian in the Sasquatch costume. At our house Halloween party I asked to get a picture with you. I almost just walked away after my camera captured the moment but decided to stop and chat for a bit. You later said that Sasquatch costume you bought off amazon was the best investment you have ever made. 

I remember the first time the word slipped out. I was sitting on the couch by the window with my roommate Cassie on a sunny day last November. "Pretty day today, eh?" I said. Oh no. I covered my mouth in shock and Cassie chortled. There it was. The word I'd so often teased you for saying. How had it slipped out? The notorious "eh" rolled effortlessly off my lips. I have since come to terms with the fact I am a wannabe Canuck and now say "eh" with a weird sense of pride now. 

I rub off on you too. You were in your kitchen cutting peppers and almost sliced your finger. I was in the other room and all I heard was a loud "HELEN KELLER" echo through the house. I am satisfied to say the phrase is now a regular part of your vocabulary.

Singing my heart out to Spice Girls' "Wannabe" to you in the car is a normality. Being purposely inappropriate together at dance parties is inevitable—and totally worth it to see people's reactions. Grocery store dates always result in one of us pushing the other on a cart super fast down an aisle and narrowly avoiding knocking over a shelf of food or running over elderly folk. Sacrament meeting hymns turn into whisper-in-your-ear vibrato opera performances and jabbing each other in the stomach with our elbows during the prayers. Seemingly adorable piggy-back rides outside end with me being "accidentally" dumped and white-washed in the snow. My now dripping-wet hair in below ten degree weather leaves neighbors questioning my sanity while you just smile and say hello like a good little poster-boyfriend. You most definitely put on that dimpled smile, and it always works. You know the way to my crazy insane dorky heart is food and use that to your advantage any time you can. 

I have never been more me. 

I have laughed more in these last four months than I have the last year. I'm not talking about those cute, polite, almost pity laughs that everyone does on a regular basis these days in the course of conversation. I'm talking about those almost completely silent throw-your-head-back-and-squeak-unattractively-between-gasps-of-air laughs. The ab-workout kind I mentioned in the beginning. 

I hope you stay awhile.

Everything is effortless and comfortable. Nice like an oversized sweatshirt.

xoxo brookie

Not your average season. Not your average bunch of girls, either.

Not your average season. Not your average bunch of girls, either.

I kissed my summer goodbye that July morning.  I also kissed my tanned body goodbye, hesitantly gave a very unwelcoming hello to the inevitable infamous soccer tan lines (shin guard, shorts, arm, and neck lines) and packed up my little car and drove the two hours back up to good ol’ Logan. Little did I know just how amazing and memorable the upcoming soccer season would turn out to be.

I play soccer for USU with the group of the most incredible girls and couldn’t be prouder to call them my teammates. We had an amazing 2012 season. We were regular season WAC conference champions as well as WAC conference tournament champions. We went on to the National tournament and played in the first round of NCAA’s losing only 2-1 in a hard fought battle to BYU who was ranked second in the nation at the time. This post is dedicated to my teammates aka my second family aka my sisters.

I get chills thinking about it. Thinking about those final ten seconds of the WAC Championship game. Impatient side glances at the seemingly impossibly slow winding down clock on the scoreboard. As the buzzer sounded, a million images of the countless hours spent in preparation surged through my mind. The moments of struggle, discouragement and disappointment.

All for this moment.

Hearts pounded as ecstatic screams of 27 girls erupted into the Logan sky.

I ran around in a daze, embracing my teammates. These girls I have grown to love. I looked around in each of their faces and saw that theirs reflected my own. Complete and utter SATISFACTION. BLISS. HAPPINESS. The feeling of working so incredibly hard and putting your entire heart and soul into something for so long and seeing it finally pay off. It's like no other. Although we achieved the same thing the year before, we were a completely different team this season and had to start from ground zero to work our way to the top again. We had to come together as a new team with new strengths, as well as new weaknesses. I looked around at these girls that I would do ANYTHING for and felt such strong love for each one of them. (extremely cheesy moment, guys. sorry.) I felt a bit like an emotional wreck of a proud mom. We all jumped around the crowds of people on the field restlessly, not wanting this moment to end. I just wanted to stand there, put my arms out, close my eyes, and soak it all in.

I just wanted to carry that feeling with me every day.

Utah State Soccer. What is it? It’s that sun beating down hard on your freckled nose during excruciatingly hot two-a-days in pre season. It’s the sound of  “somethin’ ‘bout a truck” echoing across the Chuck and Gloria Bell field on game day. It’s the cooling feel of that cold chocolate milk as it slides down your throat after a hard lifting session. It’s that dreaded “on the line!” when you think practice is over. It’s that exhilarating rush of running down the line of your cheering teammates after your name has been called in the starting line up.  It’s the pit in your stomach after hearing the ever so familiar “ wakie wakie aggies!!” It’s the moment you are dragging your exahusted numb legs around that final lap of the fitness test (also known as hell) and you hear your teammates’ voices telling you to keep pushing, and you listen, despite your legs feeling like two heavily oversized tree trunks. It’s the locker room pre-game dance offs that always end up getting frisky. It’s the unmistakably awful whine of a teammate as they pathetically belt out a tune on the bus during the “ipod game.” It’s having each other’s backs through everything, no matter what. It’s having a team prayer before every game and squeezing each other’s hands while the prayer is being said. It’s the continual quotations of bridesmaids or some random youtube video throughout practice. It’s spring 6 am conditionings where everyone’s natural beauty shines through. It’s eating out at texas roadhouse as a team and looking around to see that all your teammates ordered big ol’ steaks as well. It’s Roger’s loyal friendship on the sideline. It’s that ever-so-supportive laugh from your teammates after you biff it hard. It’s that weight lifting session that ends with a team cheer of “ DONE WORK!!” haha. It’s seeing the welcoming smile of Ernie as you step on the bus. It’s the strobe light session and loud singing that causes the flight attendant to reprimand your entire team over the plane’s intercom (and later write a formal complaint to USU). It’s sitting at a volleyball game together and freaking out and asking a million questions when a fellow teammate is spotted with a boy. It’s the blissful “IT’S TACO TUESDAY GUYS” quotation shpeeled after an exhausting practice as your stomach growls in agreement. It's all those disgustingly ugly face snapchats ever continually in circulation amongst each other. It's Alec's adorable little legs running across the field to trevor after a game. It's rolling your practice shorts up one, two, and sometimes even three times to achieve that sought-after absolution of comfort. It's meeting together in a hotel room during away games to play some mafia. It's the sexual innuendo in practically everything roundy says and does. It's the way you shout and get super excited when you see a teammate on campus despite seeing them hours every day at practice. It's those pre-game chills singing along to "Man in the Mirror." (so loudly that the football team in meetings on the floor above hear every word might I add). It's being mistaken in the airport for pretty much every sport but soccer every single time. It's coach's arm hanging out the window of a minivan. It's that never give up attitude even when you miss your pk's at practice, resulting in having to watch your teammates run. It's the pre practice gossip about who got some the night before while stretching.It's looking out into the crowd during a game and seeing your family in all USU gear cheering annoyingly loud for you. It's going to a banquet and looking in awe at your fellow teammates and being in shock about how different they look now than at practice and how nicely they clean up. It's adding "soccer girl probs" after everything. It's coming home after practice and eating everything in sight. It's wearing that Utah State jersey with pride and love. 

Utah State Soccer is SO MUCH. I could seriously go on and on, but it comes down to this. Utah State Soccer is... pushing yourself and doing so with your whole heart, every single day. Not only for yourself, but for the girls around you that you call family. Because you know that each of them would do the same for you. 

Proud to be an Aggie. But even more so, proud to be an Aggie soccer player and to be a part of the best team I have ever known.