Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #21 (The Series Finale)

 "And all along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me. I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more." ~Christina Perri, A Thousand Years

Dear Mr. Right,

It sure is nice to finally know your name.

I really can't wait for it to become mine tomorrow.

Until that day (tomorrow),

Me

Better than the Letters

"Everything I ever wanted, and everything I need, he's everything to me..." ~Brad Paisley, She's More (with a minor modification)

Easily one of my favorite blog series over the last several years was my Letters to Mr. Right.  If you're new to the blog (or just want a trip down memory lane), click here to read them all.

The first letter was penned three years ago this month.  Exactly 1,115 days before The Boy from Texas and I will take our walk down the aisle, I wished that he wouldn't miss finding me when the time was right.  He didn't.

It's funny to look back on the 20 letters I wrote to my then-unknown Mr. Right.  I can read them and go back to the very place, very situation, very moment that I wrote them. I remember the night I got the photo of the boots and heels, the one I so desperately wanted to be me, and that we re-created in our engagement pictures.

So many things I dreamed of have come true. I commented that I would enjoy him most in the fall.  Given the fact that our wedding will be in October, turns out I was probably right.   He's from West Texas, just as I hoped.  And, most importantly, he picked me.

As I read back through all of these, I quickly realized, The Boy from Texas surpasses the guy who I had in my head.  God give us more than we know to wish for. 

He's better than the letters. 

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #20

"I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren't trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.”  ~Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum

Dear Mr. Right,

Last Sunday I overheard a daddy tucking his son into bed.  I watched as he carried the pajama-clad one year old into his bedroom room.  And then I listened as the daddy said prayers with the son and then softly sang Jesus Loves Me.  This man's man--a cowboy who wears boots and sorts cattle all day and who served a tour in the army in Iraq--took the time to gently say goodnight to his son.  And my heart melted.

Photo via Super Mom's blog

As excited as I am about you loving me, I'm even more excited about you loving our little ones.

(Who with any luck will be college football stars in the making.)

Until that day,

Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter # 19

“I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough..” ~ Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Dear Mr. Right,

Last week I saw a couple walk into a restaurant.  He shuffled ahead to open the door, she slowly entered pushing a silver walker.  His hair was gone, hers was grey.  He gently put his hand on her back and he pulled out her chair when she sat down.  He took his hat off at the table and stood when she got up to use the restroom.  She wore a flowered skirt and shoes with elastic straps and called the waiter "sonny."  They shared a slice of pie.  Apple, I suspect.

And he took her wrinkled hand in his and they sat.  Together.  Without needing to speak a word.

Photo by me - Uncle Tom - 2011

I'll take that in 50 years.  Or sooner.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter # 18

"I mostly just want a life of slow-dancing in the kitchen." ~ Brunette Bombshell

Dear Mr. Right,

Sometimes, a girl looks forward to to the little things more than the big things.  At least that's true for this girl.

Forget the bouquet of flowers or the fancy jewelry or the expensive dinner.  I'll take a wink at just the right moment.  A hand on the small of my back walking into a room.   Brushing the hair out of my face.  A knowing glance across the room.  An inside joke that no one else understands.

Photo by me, Napa Valley, 2011

And if you want to do those little things and still send flowers, well I wouldn't object to that.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #17

Dear Mr. Right,

I didn't write this.  But I wish I would have. 

"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for. It doesn't interest me how old you are, I want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine. It doesn't interest me where you live or how rich you are, I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and be sweet to the ones you love. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life."  ~Jon Blais

Because I would have meant it.


Waiting for that day,

Me

 

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #16

“No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater...The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. And that's the key.  Love can make up for a lot.” ~Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

Dear Mr. Right,

When I was in college, I had a list of qualities I thought I needed to find in you.  Things like the ability to bench press my weight.  Have health insurance (I was quite practical for a 20 year old).  Never wear flip flops.  Know how to put your hand on the small of my back when walking into a room.  Beat me in a game of 1 on 1.  Have a job.  Not believe in dogs sleeping in the bed.  Wear cologne that made me weak in the knees.  Propose in the correct manner.  Know how to ride a horse and have branded calves.

Photo via Pinterest

And now?  I think I'd throw that entire list in the trash so long as you really love me. I haven't lowered my standards, but I've grown up.  Which is why it's probably good you didn't come along when I was 20.  Because I might have missed you.

(But if you happen to ride a horse and smell really good, well I wouldn't mind that much.)

Waiting for that day,

Me

*Linking up with Ashley for Friday Letters.  To see prior letters to Mr. Right, click here. 

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #15

"I thank the Lord everyday, if I get the chance to pray, for all these blessings, He's given me.  Like living with you, in our small town family dream."  ~Josh Abbott Band, Small Town Family Dream

Dear Mr. Right,

Last week I ended up on a last minute work roadtrip through rural west Texas.  I kinda secretly hope that you live there.

In a small brick house, surrounded by cotton fields.  With two dogs and a tire swing in the yard.  And a John Deere tractor and a beat up Ford truck in the driveway.  And that the house has a back porch that holds a porch swing overlooking the orange sunsets on the western horizon.  Near a town with a sign that says "Population: 2006" and a high school football stadium that holds double that number.  And a tiny church where people sing Amazing Grace on Sunday.  One with a water tower that lists the State Championship titles won since the 1970's and a welcome sign made by the students in FFA.  That's my dream.

Because small town football and a porch swing, a John Deere and Amazing Grace, you and me....well what could be better than that?

Waiting for that day,

Me

(Anyone know a west Texas farmer?  No, but seriously...anyone?) :)

*Linking up with Ashley!

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #14

"He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sapppy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.”  ~ Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

Dear Mr. Right,

I'm ready for someday to be today.  I think mostly, I look forward to the little things.  Sitting on the couch together watching football.  Grocery shopping on Sunday afternoon.  Holding hands in church.  Talking about what to cook for dinner.  Fighting over the remote.  Sharing my favorite blanket.  The smell of cologne in the bathroom in the mornings.  The afternoons spent on the future front porch swing.  You walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street when we go somewhere together.  Dancing in the kitchen on a random Tuesday.

Because those things?  They'll be my definition of paradise. 

That Johnny Cash knows what he's talking about.

Waiting for that day,

Me

*Linking up with Ashley!

Letters To Mr. Right: Letter #13

"Pick me.  Choose me.  Love me."  ~Meredith Grey

Dear Mr. Right,

It's been engagement and wedding central around here. 

Sometimes I get frustrated when it feels like I'll be waiting forever.  But the idea that someone....you....would pick me out of all the girls in the world?  That makes my heart happy. 

You'll pick me, even though I shed all over the bathroom sink when I comb my hair.  Even with the wrinkles around my eyes and the scar on my leg and the extra few pounds around my waist.  Even though I'll freak out if you ever touch me with your bare feet.  Even though I talk far too loudly and too quickly when I get excited.  Even though I hate folding laundry and had to disconnect the smoke alarm in order to cook dinner and can't fall asleep with the tv on. 

Even though no one else has picked me in the last 28 years, you'll pick me.  And I'll pick you.  In the end, that's really all that matters.

Waiting for that day,

Me



*Linking up with Friday Letters.  Read the past 12 letters to Mr. Right here.

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #12

"Life is about the people we meet and the things we create with them. So let’s go out and start creating, life is too short to be spent alone." ~Unknown

Dear Mr. Right,

You should know that I come with baggage.  A lot of it.  In the form of the posse of people who are so involved in my life.  Girl friends who analyze every text message from a boy.  Guy friends who threaten to beat up any guy who looks my way.  Uncles who are trying to set me up with "fairly good looking" convicts.  Family friends who threaten to crash dates and hide a booth over so they can watch.  Paralegals who run criminal background checks at the drop of a hat. 

And if all this makes you want to run for the hills, I'll understand.  But you can go on ahead and run, because these people are a part of who I am, and they're not going anywhere.

We all have baggage....mine is just more fun than most people's. You'll be lucky to have them.

Waiting for that day,

Me



PS:  I'm linking up with Friday Letters, so click here to read the other entries!  To see all of my Letters to Mr. Right, click here.

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #11

"I say everybody's crazy so what you need to do, you need to find somebody crazy like you." ~Josh Grider Band, Crazy Like You

Dear Mr. Right,

My friend The Crazy Canadian sent me this picture last week.

What else is there to say? I'm not looking for a super hero. Just for you.

And square toed boots.

Obviously.

Waiting for that day,


Me

To see my prior letters to Mr. Right, click here.

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #10

"Standing together in an angry world, one boy fighting for one girl..." ~Loved Like That, Shenandoah

Dear Mr. Right,

I've got a photographic memory. I think I have all those years of judging to thank for that. Just in case you're a visual person too, I wanted to show you this.


A boy and a girl. Square toed boots and high heeled shoes. Standing together.

That, my dear, is what we're looking for. One day, our very own picture like this will be worth the wait.

Waiting for that day,

Me

*Photo courtesy of my friend Stef in Oklahoma....I may have to move....

**I am linking up with Friday's Letters for the first time today! If' you're new to my blog and want to read the other 10 letters to Mr. Right (which are better than this one if you ask me) just click here!

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #9

"I like being a strong, independent woman, and to be honest, I was never afraid to be on my own." ~Dido Armstrong

Dear Mr. Right,

While you're off hiding in whatever forest you're lost in, I've learned to take care of myself. I'd like to think I'm a pretty independent gal. But there are some things that really make me wish you would show up already.

Like putting together bookshelves. And always having to worry about finding a wedding date. And changing light bulbs with my little step stool. Ugh...moving furniture. Going to church and watching a girl sit next to a boy with his arm around her shoulders. Or when I have to change my dinner plans because I can't get the stupid spaghetti sauce jar open.

Don't worry, I've got this on my own thing pretty figured out....but it'd be really great if you'd show up soon and take over some of it.

I'll make spaghetti if you open the jar.

Waiting for that day,


Me


*(Photo via)

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #8

"Oklahoma State is a special place. On game day we put 60,000 people in our stadium and the majority of them are second and third generation graduates, their sons, their grandsons, their great grandchildren have gone to school there." ~Coach Gundy

Dear Mr. Right,

I've fallen in love with a new song by Miranda Lambert, so I'll probably want to play it at our wedding. (Along with my all time favorite, Feet Don't Touch The Ground.) Particularly if you are from Oklahoma.

Or if I can convince you we need to move there. To live in a certain college town draped in orange. Where we can tailgate with our kids who will wear football jerseys and play in front of the tent every Saturday in the fall. And eat bbq at Brad's after church on Sunday. And go dancing at the Tumbleweed for date night. Maybe one day...

How long has it taken to me to find you?
Five hundred years, five hundred thousand miles.
It don't matter now.
Love's always always on time.
Meet me underneath the Oklahoma sky.

That Miranda Lambert knows what she's talking about. Ditto for Coach Gundy.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Dear Mr. Right: Letter #7

"We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love." ~Robert Fulghum, True Love

Dear Mr. Right,

Let's talk weddings. Everyone else in my life seems to be.

You know those girls that have everything planned out and have kept a book since they were 7? You're not getting one of those when you get me. I could care less about most of that stuff. I just want you to wear square toed boots. And for there to be lots of dancing. To a live band that I may have already picked out.

And I'm planning on smearing cake all over your face. Because I think that's a tradition that should not go by the wayside. But there will be no bouquet tossing, because I've been the single girl having to stand out in the middle of the floor and be gawked at too many times.

It won't be too fancy, because I'm a believer in focusing more on the marriage than the wedding. Oh yea, and please do not spend too much money on a ring or I'll honestly be mad.

Seriously, I'm a catch.

Waiting for that day,


Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #9

"Say not in grief: 'He is no more', but live in thankfulness that he was." ~Hebrew Proverb

Dear Mr. Right,

I think that the thing that makes me the most sad about you not being here yet is that you didn't get to meet some really great people.

You won't understand that when people say things like "Hogan's goat" or "Sweet Petunia" they are quoting Mr. Franklin. And you won't know what my cousins and brother mean when we talk about Faye's weenies. Likewise, the phrase "Aunt Jean candies" means nothing to you. You won't get to hear this one laugh that could make a whole room crack up for no reason at all. You won't get to meet First Valentine who got me a passing grade in home ec, and blame him for my inability to be domestic. You'll be confused when I drop everything if Paul Harvey comes on the radio and enjoy watching MASH episodes even when I can quote them line by line. Those are thanks to Gran, by the way. And to you, pink cowboy boots are just pink cowboy boots. rather than what found me my best friends.

But hopefully, if I'm doing anything right, you'll see parts of these people in me.

Beyond that, I guess you'll just have to learn as you go.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Photo via

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #8

"Highways and broken hearts, late nights and old guitars, wondering where you are, you're so far away..." ~Eli Young Band

Dear Mr. Right,

Sometimes I wonder about the girls you're dating now.

I hope that they are good to you, and that you are good to them. But not too good, because I can't take that kind of pressure. I hope that they teach you to understand the difference between "fine" which means "okay" and "fine" which means "don't you dare even think about it." I hope that they aren't too domestic or crafty, or if they are, I hope you think that's annoying. I hope that at least one of them breaks your heart--so you know how that feels and you will be careful not to ever do it to me. I hope that you have this feeling that something is missing....something that you won't find in any of these other girls, but will appear when you find me.

Photo via

Oh yea, and I hope you break up with them really, really soon. No, that's not true. Well...maybe it's kinda (totally) true.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #7

Dear Mr. Right,

I really hope that you are a country boy. Or at the very least that you fall in love with the country when you fall in love with me.

Photo via Blonde Oklahoma Girl's pinterest.

That you appreciate dirt roads and open spaces. That you learn the importance of neighbors, who become like family. That you want to sit on the front porch or the back of a tailgate and watch the sunset. And that you'll love the smell of fresh cut hay. That you know how to count cows and set irrigation tubes. That you don't mind waiting to have the tree on Christmas morning until after chores are done. And that you'll enjoy talking about different rams and looking through bull semen catalogs. Because I think that you'll quickly realize...the country, the land, the animals, the stories....those are a really big part of me.

And hopefully they'll be a big part of you too.

Waiting for that day,

Me

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #6

"Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale." ~Author Unknown

Dear Mr. Right,

Just so you know, I'm not expecting some unrealistic, tv romance.

For example, I don't expect it to be like 8 Seconds where Kelly and Lane ride the horse together. I can ride my own horse, thank you. And I don't expect for you to have to save the damsel in distress like on the Wedding Planner. I can walk in heels without tripping on the street, thank you. Oh, and I'm not going to meet you online like on You've Got Mail. I don't believe in that, thank you. (My plea about Kyle the Medic notwithstanding...) And I won't make you leave your job coaching football at the best program in Texas to move back east with me (sorry, Tami Taylor, but I'm still upset over that one). I get the importance of football, thank you.

But if you could do a few little things for me, that would be great. Like give me your jacket when I get cold. And put your arm on the small of my back when we walk into a room. Know that my favorite flowers are tulips, and not roses. And treat my girl friends well--especially if any of them are still single by the time you show up. Bring me ice cream if I've had a bad day. Practice up on your shoulder massages. Wear square toed boots. Don't try to convince me that I'll like fish if I just try it. And ask me to dance any time you can.

I think if you manage to pull those things off, it'll be better than any Hollywood produced romance anyway, thank you.

Waiting for that day,

Me