I wonder if anyone I know began the New Year with a resolution to be better at journal keeping. Let me just say that I am a BIG FAN! Personally I have been rather awful these past couple of years – except for this blog. However, there were moments of journal keeping in Mark’s life which have helped to get me through these past months. His words are a treasure to me – but they were hard fought on my part.

Years ago I was an excellent journal keeper and I have many volumes to prove it. Mark was not. Mark would get ornery every time anyone mentioned journaling. I learned to never talk about it unless I had someone (like Nina the journal queen) to back me up. I don’t know what it was but he didn’t want to hear a word about it! One summer we had a family challenge that included writing in our journals once a week. These are some of his first entries and let me just say that if you were to see them you would have thought he was a fourteen year-old boy. Whining and complaining he grudgingly made a few entries.

It was during the existence of his whining journal that he had a change of heart – and I have his journals to prove it. Not many journals – and not many words in them, but what I have is a treasure. I hope every person I know leaves behind some of their words for those they love. Can they ever be truly gone when you can read their words over and again?

After he stopped complaining about writing he began to compose our greatest treasure of all. Mark wrote a story journal! In 2006 he decided that when he traveled he would write stories of his life for our children. They are in no particular order, just whatever came to mind. In total he recorded 37 stories and almost filled the leather bound journal.

Here is a very cool story about his story journal:

Several years ago, while he was in a meeting in downtown Portland, Oregon, bad guys broke into his car and stole his briefcase. They took all of his “tech” and then ditched the briefcase behind a bookstore. Mark was on his way to Seattle and had packed his story journal. He was upset about the theft but mostly about losing his journal.

After just a couple days Mark received a phone call from a client. This man hadn’t worked with Mark for quite awhile but he had been contacted by that bookstore in Portland – they had found the journal! This client was at a hockey game somewhere in the Midwest when this all transpired and he was able to find Mark’s contact information and get a hold of him right away.

The bookstore employees were accustomed to finding stolen goods and routinely put them into the dumpster if there was no way to identify the owner. (It is even more likely that they just dumped everything.) This particular employee was about to throw away the briefcase when he noticed this leather journal. Right away he recognized that it was special (very special) but there was no way to return it to the owner. Who was the owner? He had rummaged through the briefcase and found this old business card of the client at the hockey game.

Mark was thrilled to have his journal returned! He definitely recognized the miracle and was filled with gratitude. I knew how special this journal was to Mark but he never shared it with anyone. I think he wanted to complete it – and he got so close! He wrote this for his children so for Christmas I scanned the journal and published a copy for each of them. I know that Kimberly devoured hers and I am hoping that the others are enjoying theirs as well.

Story 19 is titled “First Date with Corinne” and I have already shared the part he wrote about holding hands. It will be included of course. Before typing up Mark’s story I will include a photo of his title page – you can see that I am discouraged from correcting his version of how it all played out – my version is a wee bit different. He did a good job. (I will just use initials for the names of our double date. M. was Mark’s best friend. C. and I became good friends. We are all still friends and both M. and C. came to Mark’s funeral.)

First Date With Corinne by Mark Andrus

It was inevitable that I would call Corinne Parkin and “officially” ask her on a date. It was not inconsequential that M. would be involved. It was unimaginable the impact that night would have on my life.

May 1987 Corinne Parkin was home in San Luis Obispo for the summer. She was a student at BYU. She was also a total babe.

I had met her a few times back in December 1986 upon arriving home from my mission. Her sister Lori was a best friend of my brother Mike. So naturally when older brother Mark came home from the mission and older sister Corinne was home from school, the teenage crowd went to work trying to get us together.

The first attempt was a trip to the beach in December. Corinne was there laying out in a cute blue swimsuit. It was freezing. I was skim-boarding with Mike and the boys. I must have said hello to Corinne but there is little in the world as awkward as meeting a girl with an entire audience watching your every move and listening to every word.

The second attempt was a New Year’s Eve dance. I saw Corinne at the dance. We danced a few times. But, when I introduced myself while we were dancing, Corinne said, “Oh, I know your fiancé.” Well, I wasn’t engaged but that is a different story.

So the New Year came and Corinne went back to school. I also started school at Cuesta College, got a job at First Bank and started thinking about the rest of my life. During that period of time my best friend M. came home from his mission in Ireland. In fact, he probably came home right at the end of April or the beginning of May.

One evening in May, I came home from work and my brother told me that Corinne was back home. He encouraged me to ask her out. I had heard stories about her father (he was the priest quorum advisor) and wanted to plan a date that would be acceptable. Mike pointed out that there was a G-rated movie playing in town. So I called Corinne, introduced myself and asked her to go out to see the Aristocats movie. She happily accepted my invitation. Years later I learned that she was hoping I would call.

A day or two later my friend M. came over and said he was home and wanted to do something. He said that on the weekend the sprint cars were racing at the Santa Maria speedway. (This might have even been that Saturday afternoon that he called.)

M. and I used to go to those races before the mission and there was little entertainment as exciting and wonderful as a sprint car race on a mud track.

I saw that this was a chance to really step up my date with Corinne… sprint cars was much better than Aristocats.

I encouraged Mark to get a date and we could double date to the race. He didn’t like that idea. He didn’t date much (like only a couple times) before his mission. We ran down a list of optional dates. M. was not going for any of my suggestions so finally I dialed the phone number of C. and tossed the phone to M. After some long tense seconds of silence, M. asked C. to the race. I then called Corinne and asked if we could change our plans and go to the race with M. and C. She accepted the revised invitation.

M. drove, so Corinne and I sat in the back seat. M. and C. were both shy and not interested in talking. This gave Corinne and me a chance to visit. This was the first time to really talk. It had been several months since the fiancé comment and I was dating Corinne so clearly I was not married. Also, I’m sure that the topic had been clarified through the Mike and Lori channels. We were starting with a clean slate.

I asked Corinne about her school major. She asked me what I was studying. At the time I was taking the math and history that I should have taken in high school. I must have said that I was working on my AA degree at the junior college. Corinne turned a gave me a look and maybe said something (this is a subject of debate) that communicated to me that if I wanted to date her again I had better improve the answer to that question. I determined right then that I would prepare and focus on going to BYU to study. That was the first event of the night that would have significant impact on my life.

We got to the race and enjoyed the sounds, smells, and sights of dirt track spring car racing. I don’t know if Corinne thought it was that great but she was sure a good sport. We continued to talk and quickly completely forgot about M. and C.

The night got cooler and Corinne and I covered up under a blanket. I took the opportunity to reach over and hold her hand. When she held mine back (for those who have held hands for the first time in a relationship know what that means) something special passed between us.

Holding hands with someone, especially the right someone, for the first time can be magical. From the boy’s side… first you think about it. Should you reach over and touch her hand? It is such a bold move. It means so much. It is a bold statement that says, “I like you,” “I want to be with you.” Up to that point in a relationship there is a lot of guessing and hoping. But when you commit to hold her hand it puts those maybes into action. It is a decisive moment when you will either be victorious or you will crash and burn.

You move your hand close to hers. You watch to see her reaction. You move again. You watch. You get to the point when the next move will initiate contact. This is another decision point… do you just touch fingers, play it safe and watch her reaction? If you take this path you risk appearing weak, timid and unsure. or do you take her hand in one swift, bold move? If you take this path you risk a shocking reaction, maybe a slap or a question, “What are you doing?” You will definitely draw attention to the action and cannot pretend it did not happen.

I chose to be bold. The reaction was an accepting soft squeeze back. This was an affirmation of all the teenager talk that Mark and Corinne should date. In that moment I knew that this remarkable, beautiful, intelligent girl liked me back just a little. She opened the door of possibility just a crack.

After the date we drove home. Corinne and I in the back seat holding hands and talking. The drive home was much faster than the drive to the race.

Since C. was my neighbor, and M. was driving, we dropped Corinne off first. That was actually a good thing. There was no pressure to ruin the evening with an attempted first kiss. It was better to leave the evening with a hand hold and think about how great that was for a week or two.

But. This night had changed my life forever. It put me on a new course in school, in life plans and most importantly it started a relationship with Corinne who is the greatest thing that has happened to me in eternity.

No wonder that I love his journal… write and be remembered!!