Forged in Fire

One of the coolest stories of all time (major bias alert) is on deck.

It has many parts, but all of which stand the test of time and are undoubtedly share-worthy.

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I was just beginning my sophomore year of college, (which, if you read last week’s blog post, you know turned into quite the ordeal.)

At this point in time, I was still a part of the wrestling team. Before the school year kicked off, I had to attend a “back to school” barbeque for the student-athletes – an event for socialization and networking, I suppose? 

In the moment, I was oblivious to the better majority of my surroundings, as most 19 year olds tend to be. I was with my buddies, and in attendance solely because it was required – oh, and for the free food. 

Though seemingly trivial at the moment, that event has become one of the staple memories in my young life. 

Here’s what happened:

Seated at a picnic table with some teammates, directly across from me was someone I’d never seen before, but looked familiar. I was awe-struck nearly immediately, and completely infatuated with getting to know who she was.

So, I started a conversation with her.

SIKE – that would have made too much sense – which I, in all of my immature glory, was not in the business of doing. 

Instead, I took the rational approach, which any young and dumb man approaching his twenties would do. I noticed a tattoo on her wrist which read: “Be Still.” That was it! That was exactly how I would identify who she was. It was unique, and it was something that was easily identifiable.

And so, I asked around. Then I asked some more. 

This went on for quite some time, until finally someone knew her name. “Her last name is Ksiazek” someone told me. “Tatum is her first name, she transferred here to play softball.”

I knew that last name, and knew it wasn’t a common one. This helped me connect some dots.

Eventually, I came to realize that I had wrestled her older brother several years prior. Small world, right? 

This explained to me why there was a familiarity there – why I knew she looked like someone, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on who.

A couple of weeks went by, and I hadn’t seen her around, until I walked into my first class of the semester and saw her standing there. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t.

This went on and on, until finally there was a reason for us to have a conversation. We were both presenting a project  for that same class at the public library when crossing paths yet again – during which we exchanged some small talk … just enough to make me nervous.

Months went by with more of the same – small interactions from time to time, but nothing more. 

I wasn’t sure of much at the time, if anything at all. I was lost and confused – with no real end in sight to dig my way out of the hole I’d found myself sliding into. This made the internal value I felt behind seeking out little conversations and exchanges with this person who I hardly knew, all the more intriguing to me.

There had to be a reason, right? 

In a time where I was working to accept a greater plan, I chalked it up to just that. 

Months later, as my Sophomore year of college had come to a close, I moved back to my hometown for the summer to work a job and save up some money. While doing so, I enrolled in a summer class that I would need to pass in order to stay on track for graduation (and to remain off of academic probation.)

Admittedly, I was still drifting along aimlessly – doing what I could to get by. I had no idea how I was going to pass this class, much less finish out my degree. I was, yet again, at a crossroads.

This was the case until I got a message, much to my surprise, from “Be Still” herself. 

We were taking the same online course – wouldn’t you know it.

Seeking some assistance from me, she quickly realized that I had little to offer, but instead took to helping me when she had no good reason to. By complete happenstance, she and I developed a friendship through what is (to this day) the hardest class I have ever taken. 

In a short period of time, said friendship sparked itself into a first date. A first date that turned into two, and into three. 

I was over the moon, and why wouldn’t I be? 

In my darkness entered a light greater than anything I could’ve imagined, yet something I had tried to imagine plenty of times before.

And so, as the days, weeks and months passed by, the relationship continued to grow. One life event at a time, we tackled them as one. 

We spent the final two years of college together, eventually wrapping up our collegiate experience and graduated side by side. Amidst this period, I asked her to be my wife. We began our careers and we bought a house. Memory after memory, we stacked them up.

In March of 2023, we married and began yet another chapter in this life together. Soon thereafter, we were blessed with the conception of a child.

Now more than a year into this journey of marriage, I reflect on all that lead to these moments. The smaller stories that make up the greater story of our life together. 

Stories of highs and stories of lows, and everything in between. Stories that make me cry and those that make me laugh uncontrollably. Stories, like this one – the beginning of what has now become so special – the story of how such a beautiful soul changed my life. How she taught me to, as that tattoo reads, be still. How her presence altered how I looked at this life we’re blessed with. How, ultimately, this has all compiled into life as we currently know it, a life that was once a fantasy. 

All of this has led to a life filled with love for one another and for the precious soul we brought into this world together, our daughter. She is the culmination of all that came before her, in the most tremendous of ways. A little girl, who we named “Still.”

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