Everyone who has ever loved, has a love story. Ours is no exception, but I believe it has been exceptional.

My husband Jim Rich and I had several opportunities to meet.

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In 1967-‘68, he was the men’s president at East High School in Salt Lake City and I was girl’s president at Olympus High, a few miles south. Oftentimes the girl’s officers would invite other school’s officers to their events. On one of these occasions, I recall meeting a dashing group of East High barbershop singers, one who happened to be Jim. It was our first fleeting moment.

About that same time, I’d happened on a newspaper article featuring some high student’s ice blocking in Sugarhouse Park. One of the names under the picture, Jim Rich, caught my attention, as ‘a Jim Rich’ had been a neighbor of mine growing up on Berkeley Street and this ‘Jim’ was not ‘him.’

The next time we met, a few years later, I had graduated from BYU and was a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding reception at my cousin Frank’s home. Frank had invited a few of his Tahitian return missionary companions to help with the parking and, of course, Jim was one. Later he told me that he came through the reception line that night, but I couldn’t recall seeing him.

A few weeks passed and we accidently met again at Frank’s while swimming. I left the pool to get to my performance at the Lagoon Opera House and as I hurried off, Jim hollered out to me, “wow, your hair sure dries fast” – that compliment every girl longs to hear. At summer’s end, Jim and I met again at Bear Lake and my fun-loving mother told Jim he ought to ask me out. Being an obedient soul, the next week we had our first date, an East High study group outing up Weber canyon. That was in the fall of 1973.

We both must have needed some polishing, since for the next three years our dating was on and off; a series of hello’s and goodbyes. (I like to tell everyone Jim needed that time to date every girl in the valley, including some of my cousins…) That first Christmas he made me a beautiful music/jewelry box which, out of spite, I’d hide on our ‘off’ times so as not to remind me of him. I don’t know what he did with the needlepoint footstool I had made for him that Christmas, but I’m guessing, knowing Jim now, he just enjoyed using it.

Sometime in the middle of those three years, I was attending a ‘preparation for marriage’ class one evening at the University of Utah with—not Jim. I had recently been proposed to and was still unsure of my answer. On my drive home from class, I’d finally decided I should accept the proposal. As I was driving I distinctly remember thinking that even though everything finally seemed ‘right’, running into that Jim Rich could really mess things up.

Minutes later, as I stopped at a traffic light on 2300 East, I glanced across the lane and there was Jim, sitting in his car looking over at me. He’d been to a valley-wide young adult meeting out my way, had forgotten his scriptures and had turned back to retrieve them. We rolled down windows, he asked if he could follow me home and the rest of the story is well, our love story.

As it went, Jim eventually listened to my dilemma and being the true friend he was to so many, asked if he could fast and pray with me about ‘the other guy.’ After a few bumps in the road (mostly me hyperventilating over decisions) and with Jim’s firm assurance that all would be well, we became engaged on Christmas Eve, 1976.

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Because everything works out as it should (that, and we had to rush our plans to keep an out of state job deadline) we were married five weeks later on January 27th, 1977, happily and peacefully sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. Before our move to California to begin Jim’s new employment, we were going through some of his things and found a note in a scrap box about a campus freshman booster committee he’d been on at the University of Utah. In looking closely we discovered that we’d both been assigned to that same committee, another opportunity to meet that never happened.

All married couples go through adjustments but ours seemed few. Having both experienced some of the ups and downs of single life and fast approaching our 27th year, we were quite ready to begin our life and family together. Jim was strong physically, mentally and spiritually, giving our family a firm base to build upon. I was spirited, quick and the planner of the fun so we were ‘mostly’ balanced.

With the blessing of four sons and a daughter in our first eight years, we were once again settling back in the Salt Lake valley.  We worked, planned, played, loved and danced our way through three wonderful decades. Moments turned to years as we experienced the earthly ups and downs that most do, happy, exhilarating times and those when we needed to lean on each other’s faith. We had the normal issues with children and health, lost parents unexpectedly early and, when grandchildren entered the scene, lost a beautiful grandson to an accidental drowning. There were days of heartache but we were always aware that the Lord knew us, that He was there to help us keep our eternal perspective in check and retain a sense of humor.

In July of 2011 we were on vacation with my siblings when Jim began experiencing twitches (fasciculation’s) in his arm. This seemed normal for the stress he’d been under traveling with his company for several years.   But as the months progressed, so did the twitches and in January of 2012, he was diagnosed with ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease.

This motor neuron disease was most distressing since Jim had been so physically active his entire life and we knew that he would eventually become completely immobile. I don’t believe you can really know how deeply you love someone until you know you will lose them, an inevitability with ALS. Our love had grown enormously over the years but I had no idea of the effect that unbridled compassion could have on the heart.

The blessed gift Jim was given throughout this journey was such a surprise to me. As he began to lose mobility in his arms and legs, he would tell everyone that what he truly felt was ‘gratitude.’ Being a Mechanical Engineer and wanting to gather all the information possible, Jim studied and prepared for everything he would need in a calm and timely manner. Along with this preparation, he also exercised great patience tutoring me in what I would eventually need to know about family finances.

He enjoyed having heartfelt conversations with family and friends, always showing great interest in their lives. He loved sharing time with children and grandchildren, especially his last summer at our Bear Lake cabin. Throughout the process, his attitude was one of hope and unwavering love and gratitude. With our attempts at stem cell therapy, special diets, clinic visits and everything we could do to prolong the disease having no helpful affect, there were plenty of tears, but with Jim, never ever any self-pity.

For myself, I admit that acceptance and gratitude were harder to come by. There were days when I was impatient; visibly and regrettably frustrated and angry. How could our wonderful life be interrupted by this horrid disease for which there was no cure? How could such a faithful, honorable, kind man, a most cherished husband, father, son and brother be subject to losing his life, limb by limb? How could he leave me when it seemed to take years to finally get together?

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But as we moved through the progression of the disease, I realized that I had also been given special gifts. I was blessed with physical health and strength to be able to care for Jim, blessed to have wonderful children who lived close by, extended family and dear friends and neighbors who loved Jim and wanted to serve him as well. I even felt that ‘peace that passeth all understanding’ I’d been promised.

I began to experience the vision of pure love, or charity that Paul extolled to the Corinthians. Love does truly – “suffereth long and is kind.” It “envieth not and vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemingly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.” It literally “Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things and endureth all things”. To that I add that true love is raw and honest and deep and undying.  It is the essence of life to love someone and to receive love back.

Jim ‘crossed the finish line’ (as we like to say) just short of two years after his diagnosis. His faith never faltered, he fought a good fight and finished his course well with our children beside him, blessing his life. He crossed in my arms as I whispered my love and my gratitude for his life, for our life together, our eternal family and my trust that we would all be together again.

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He left as pure as he came, quietly but audibly expressing the words, “I will always be with you.” Jim has continued to be with us. I especially feel his spirit often and know he is progressing and preparing, as he would do, a place for all of his family in the eternities. I am grateful he is free from his physical infirmities, as I know he is.

Perhaps the Lord was preparing us in those ‘on and off’ dating years, to be able to ‘let go and let God.’ Perhaps He was preparing me to learn patience during those years that I waited for the ‘right’ proposal, in that distressing time I had to wait and watch my dearest friend and love lose his life, and for the years to come that we will again have to ‘wait’ for each other. And of course, He was teaching us the F-A-I-T-H to Forward All Issues THeaven!

I ache for Jim, for his strong arms, deep brown eyes, warm kisses, his calm reassuring voice and manner and the glorious times we enjoyed as a couple and with our family throughout our 36 years. I hope that what we’ve experienced will prepare me (us) for what is ahead. I’ve been reminded that when we experience trials we think the Lord is testing us. It is simply not so, because He already knows us. The test is for us to get to know ourselves.

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Having both experienced the refiner’s fire, we surely have grown and changed. I hope I’ve learned wisdom where there was worry, resilience where there was resistance, hope where there seemed hopelessness and faith where there was fear. I’m certain I have learned how to truly love and receive love back, especially through Jim’s flawless example in his last months. It is Heaven’s best gift to love.

Star crossed lovers or fateful friends, we each have personal paths to follow in this life. I am convinced that those paths are directed by ‘One’ who has always known and loved us and if our paths are meant to cross, they surely will. Why else would Jim and I have been given so many opportunities to meet and fall in love if not for a divine purpose? Now, for reasons that are not ours to understand, we are waiting to meet again. But because years ago we made sacred promises to each other across the altars of the temple, I know that one day we will ‘run into each other’ one last time, that there will only be joyful, tender tears and no more ‘goodbyes’!

Joanne Patterson Rich

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