It all began on June 9, 1997, when Don and I first met during a training he was facilitating at Indian Health Service in Tucson. From the moment we met, I remember feeling an immediate connection; a sense that he would hold a meaningful place in my life. The next day, as everyone began to head home, Don and I had a brief conversation in the parking lot. That moment led to us exchanging phone numbers, and soon after, we found ourselves in a beautiful, if brief, relationship.

That summer, we journeyed through the breathtaking mountains of Colorado, savoring a sunset that painted a lake in hues of violet and winding our way through mountain roads that opened to towering peaks and skies scattered with clouds which showered the Earth with rays of soft, golden light. “Blessings from the Creator,” Don remarked and in that moment, it truly felt like we were. I’ve often told friends that the day we spent driving from Estes Park through Rocky Mountain National Park was one of the best days of my life.

Though life took us in different directions, we always remained friends — especially encouraging one another’s work. When I was diagnosed with cancer, one of the first people I called was Don. Without hesitation, he offered his support, just as he always had. But we were rarely in contact and hadn’t seen each other in nearly 15 years — not until Don came to Phoenix for a conference in the fall of 2023.

I reached out to see if we could meet for dinner. My niece was in town and joined me, and we enjoyed a wonderful evening. As we left, she gently suggested there might still be a spark between us, but it wasn’t obvious to me. Don flew back to Colorado, and I honestly didn’t think I’d see him again.

Then something unexpected happened.

As my employer’s Christmas party approached, a quiet voice inside nudged me to invite Don. I brushed it off at first but the feeling persisted. I had gone solo for more than 25 years and thought it would be fun to attend with a guest. Finally, I reached out — and to my surprise, he agreed to join me. He flew in, and we shared a joyful evening surrounded by twinkling lights and holiday warmth. During his visit, Don mentioned he might be ready for a change from Colorado, and I casually recommended Phoenix. Sunshine, no snow shoveling — what wasn’t to love? I didn’t expect him to take it seriously… but he did.

In February 2024, Don made the move to Arizona. I helped him get settled, and we began spending more time together — dinners, falling back into our routine of long conversations, shared laughter. On June 1, during a visit to Butterfly Wonderland, I felt it: the shift, the unmistakable realization that we were back — and this time, it was for good.

By then, I was already one year into a diagnosis of Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer, following six years of living with Stage 3 Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Many relationships can’t weather that kind of storm — but Don didn’t waver. He walked back into my life through the “out door,” ready to stay, offering his love and unwavering support through every hospitalization, every chemo side-effect, every step through complicated treatments.

In the spring of 2025, we decided to make it official — to say “yes” to a life together, whatever comes. Twenty-eight years after our initial meeting, we remain blessed. Deeply grateful for unexpected second chances, we are delighted to take this next step. We extend our appreciation all who have supported us along the way.

Thank you for sharing our journey, and for joining us on October 11 as we celebrate love, resilience, and new beginnings.

With love,

Clare & Don

C&D

Wedding Day

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