I think that it is important to note that I grew up with 5 sisters. I was in the middle. 2 older sisters and 3 younger. Even my dog was a girl. When I came back from my mission I dated a little. But I didn’t receive the feeling that these were the women that I was looking for. The qualities and characteristics just weren’t there. I know that that sounds shallow and picky, but marriage is the one time that you are supposed to be selfish. Selfish just happens to be the one thing that I do best. I stopped the dating for a while, basically because I wasn’t very good at it. I was incredibly shy when it came to girls. If I wasn’t interested in a particular girl then I could talk to her just fine, but if I was attracted to her in the least then I became a social klutz. My mind would go blank, my tongue and lips would swell, and my saliva glands would shut down.
I was at the LDS Institute of Religion in the Fall of 1995 minding my own business. I believe I was playing Ping Pong and doing quite well if I remember, when I overheard a conversation at the table next to the game table. There were about 4 or 5 guys sitting at the table but on occasion I could hear a female voice participating in this conversation on, of all things, Cremation. I couldn’t believe that a woman was holding her own in such a conversation and doing quite well. OK, I was impressed, but I still couldn’t see clearly who she was because the table was surrounded by other people, and I was still kicking butt at the ping pong game. (Priorities) The game finally ended at approximately the same time as the conversation. I was cooling down with a Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Cider after a heated game when she stood up. My mind went blank, my lips and tongue began to swell, and my saliva glands shut down. All I could think was “she’s hot and she’s a brainyack”
Well, any woman that hot and mentally tough had to have a boyfriend, why bother trying. I was curious though. My younger sister Angela was attending the Institute at the time and I asked her to begin looking into who the boyfriend of the Goddess might be. I also approached sister Thuet, the Institute Secretary for the same information as well as any other information she might have. Sister Thuet just smiled as I pointed out the poor unsuspecting victim on whom I had focused all of my attention. She informed me that her name was Danille Edwards and that she did not have a boyfriend at that time. Sister Thuet gave me Danille’s major, Institute class schedule, address, and phone number. Jackpot! (If Dani wants to blame anyone, Sister Thuet is the one really responsible) My sister later confirmed the boyfriend information. They both had to be lying. I observed her for three weeks trying to see if the gals were wrong. (the legal definition may be “Stalking”) Occasionally I would say hi to her in the hallways and if she wasn’t busy I would invite her to play a game of Ping Pong. Did I mention Dani wore shorts? I can’t remember when I was ever so thrilled to throw a game of Ping Pong. The reader can imagine why.
After the three weeks, and after I was relatively sure that the Goddess didn’t have a boyfriend (Man law #13) I couldn’t contain myself any longer. One day I could tell that she wasn’t feeling well. I’m just sensitive that way, and very tuned in to others feelings. Besides, she told me that she wasn’t feeling well. She was sitting towards the back of the main Institute room soaking up some sun. I figured that she might not be thinking too clearly since she was feeling ill. If I asked her on a date she might not know what she’s agreeing to. (did I mention that I’m selfish?) Now because I was still suffering the same physiological problems I had to act as if I were my best friend. What would he say and do. He was a real lady killer. He could charm any woman. It worked, she said yes to the date.
We went to a UNLV basket ball game. I can’t remember who won, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was still by my side by the end of the game. She hadn’t bolted. After the game we went to a restaurant called “Alias, Smith & Jones” (no longer in business). We both ordered chicken fingers. She went finger for finger with me, apparently she had an appetite and wasn’t afraid to show it. Historical Note: I used to become outraged when watching my sisters before their dates would show up. They would eat like ravenous animals at a fresh kill before their dates (victims) would show up. Eat like birds on the date, and then bring home leftovers. The capitalist in me could appreciate the strategy, but the manly man in me could not tolerate the deception. Show the date what you’re all about. Those poor saps never knew.
Back to the story. I was impressed. I asked her out for the next week, and every week thereafter. I didn’t want those yahoos at the Institute to think that she was available. Come to find out, the other guys were intimidated by her, and also thought that she had a boyfriend. She did now. I thought for one of the dates that I would show her how to shoot. My bad. Apparently Annie Oakley already knew how to shoot, and as luck would have it she could shoot better than me. She could also milk a cow, something I couldn’t master, change the oil on her car and change a tire. I was hooked. The night that I knew that I would ask her to marry me was just like any other date we had. When the date was over we ended up at her house. We were sitting on the couch; her family was in the other room. We were talking and then all of a sudden she smacks the wall behind my head. When I turn around I notice that she had smashed a spider with her bare hand. Something no female I ever knew could do with a shoe, much less hand to hand.
I hadn’t held her hand for about three months, I wanted to take it slow and I felt that to hold a girl’s hand was assuming a lot. I finally did, but it was another month and a half before I kissed her. Those physiological symptoms just would not go away. But after the first kiss, I was a kissing fool. I couldn’t help myself. At the time I was working for my Brother-In-Law, Don. He knew that I was serious about Dani and called me into his office. He asked when I was going to propose. I told him I didn’t know. He asked ‘do you love her?’ yes was the reply. “Does she love you?” I think so? I said. He told me that if I didn’t ask her tonight that she was going to think that I was a flake and find someone else. That was unacceptable. During our date it took me 3 hours to tell her that I loved her and then finally asked the question.
The next day I needed to ask for her father’s blessing on the marriage. Not easy. I had been warned by my grandfather that Ken Edwards was not an easy man, and that he used to play with dynamite for fun. (True story. As a kid) I was sweating from every pore on my body, even from places I didn’t have pores. My teeth were sweating. Stupid physiological responses. He said that we had his blessing. I did not ask for his permission. We were both adults, and I was going to marry her no matter what he said, and no matter how crazy he was. This just made things easier. 24 years later and she is still with me. Some women are so gullible. Quite often I still get nervous when I am with her. I guess that is how you’re supposed to feel when you’re around a Goddess.
I thought that I was a man before I married Dani. I was mistaken. As the responsibilities have increased I believe that I have become more of the man that my Father in Heaven wants me to be. I used to be more passive unless something really set me off, then I had no fuse. Now I am bolder when talking with people and willing to take advantage of more opportunities rather than play it safe. However, I find that I don’t fly off the handle as much as I used to. I am more in control of my anger, thanks to Dani.
Jacob I believe has been molded more by his mother than by me. He is a little more sensitive, taller, and he has his hair. He is also over confident. Not the humble man that his father is. But that is how most 19 year old boys are. I took him down a peg or two when I had him working for me on the runway project at the airport. It was freezing cold and I told my foremen to give him the worst jobs. And they did. Jake took it all, and kept coming to work. There was little sleep on that project. 90 hour weeks for six months straight, sometimes 7 days a week. He earned the money for his mission which made him extremely proud. He stuck with the job which made Dani and me very proud. He got along well with all of the co-workers and the contractor personnel, which is not an easy thing to do. Extreme personalities exist on a job of that magnitude and Jake handled himself well. I think he finds that being on a mission is just a little more pleasant than being back on the runway. He loves his mission, the country, and the people. He doesn’t want to come home, which means to us that his mind is right and that we might have done our job as parents correctly.
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