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Writer's pictureROGER H. TALL, M.D.

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT


There is an unwritten script for the plays of life. For men, much of that script has to be deciphered from hints that come from women -- mostly encrypted words and sighs, nuances of facial expression and body language. In an effort to avoid becoming just another oafish male, I have learned that it is better to observe and listen carefully for my script. It was not always so.       Had I been paying closer attention at one critical point in my life, I would have realized that one of the scripts being written for me came from the fairytale romance of two of our friends. In 1968, Mary Kay and Ann Edwards went Grenoble, France, during the Winter Olympics, for a semester abroad. During that time, they traveled to Wales where they went to the beach and took pictures of each other sitting in a big heart drawn in the sand. Ann’s said, “I love Mitt.” Then the girls replaced “Mitt” with “Rog” and took Mary Kay’s picture. How romantic! Meanwhile, back in France, Mitt had his fellow missionaries take the same kind of photo of him reclining on a beach for him to send to Ann. This picture appears in this article and was published in People Magazine when Mitt ran for President of the United States. At the end of his mission, Mitt flew home from France to Detroit, where he proposed to Ann on the way home from the airport.        On the other hand, Ontario and Quebec, Canada are not known for sandy beaches where optimists can photograph romantic sentiments drawn in the sand. Our mission motto was, “Many are cold, but few are frozen.”  A man who understood scripts may have realized the value of making a heroic effort to get a romantic photograph taken of himself lying on a cold, wet beach when Lake Ontario thawed out, maybe with a heart and sentiments laid out with rocks. That man would also have realized that the standard had been set for proposing marriage to Mary Kay after flying home from Toronto to Idaho Falls while riding in the car on the way home from the airport.  However, I was returning home from Canada, where, just a few hours earlier, the rules were that we were encouraged to stay focused on the spirit of all things missionary and put out of our minds all thoughts of distractions from home. I was not asleep at the wheel and realized that I was in love with a beautiful girl who loved me and that we wanted to be married. I thought that my arranging for an engagement ring, and talking with her parents and my parents within 10 days of my return was close to traveling at light speed — possibly too fast. I have been reminded for the past 50 years that this was not so.       My parents, who had stayed married through the depression, medical school, and WWII, thought we were a little too young, but gave their approval. When I met with Reed Hunter, Mary Kay’s father, he was standing barefoot in the kitchen after returning from irrigating potatoes. I asked him if we could talk for a few minutes. The look on his face told me that he knew exactly what was going on. He said, “I guess if we are going to talk, I had better put my socks on.” He greeted my request with the enthusiasm of a father who had concluded that someone proposing marriage to Mary Kay would be helping him by offloading a high maintenance project.  Mary Kay’s mother, Nona, was soon planning a large summer wedding in just a few short weeks. That was just enough time for one of Mary Kay’s friends from college, Chuck, to drive up from Preston in his red convertible to try to talk Mary Kay and her parents out of choosing me and into choosing him. She chose wisely.        In August, we had a beautiful wedding at the Idaho Falls Temple, on my parent’s anniversary, followed that evening with a reception at Hunter Ranch. Ann Romney came to Idaho to be in Mary Kay’s wedding line, just as Mary Kay had gone to Detroit to be in hers. Over 50 years later, Mary Kay still loves me even though I miss the script much of the time. 


Ever vigilant, Roger Tall, M.D.

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