love story, part one
This weekend is a special one for me. Beyond the gratitude for those who have fought to keep our country safe and the backyard BBQs and the extra day to sleep in, two years ago this weekend, Husband asked me to marry him. Even if it’s a little unconventional, our love story is my favorite (obviously) and I never grow tired of telling it. Others might grow tired of listening, but I couldn’t care less.
We met through our jobs when we were both living in California and happened to be playing on the same recreational football team. I was the kicker and he was the holder. (He also played every other position because he’s ridiculous.) After the games, a group of us would go out for coffee or ice cream or whatever. Eventually, without us even noticing, that group became just the two of us. Apparently this is called dating. I started inviting him to hang out with my friends, and he invited me along to do things with his buddies. I thought he was pretty stellar and he felt the same about me (although I didn’t figure this out until months later – he wasn’t very obvious with emotions at the time.)
By the time Christmas came around, we realized that we were actually dating and not just casually. This relationship train was headed for commitment but neither of us could figure out how to unbuckle our seatbelts to get off the dang thing. Not that we wanted to, though.
Still, commitment doesn’t mean marriage so we were still happy in our dating life. Until our time in California was up and we were about to get transferred to parts unknown. We then had that talk about options. You know the one: stay together and hope we get transferred to the same place, stay together and try for long-distance relationship success, break up, or……..get married.
I’m sure a lot of thought, prayer, planning, and consideration went into Husband’s vote because he’s just that kind of guy. I knew from the minute we met that he was the one so there really wasn’t any debate in my mind (there was a lot of praying, though!). Turns out, we both voted marriage.
Even though we needed to beat the paperwork clock, it was really important to both of us to spend some time making sure our parents were on the same page we were. We conveniently scheduled all three sets to come visit, one each weekend for three weekends in a row. Amazingly, everyone was incredibly supportive. Secretly, I think my family was just glad to get me off their hands. Dad looked like the cat that ate the canary when Husband asked him for permission.
We were now down to 3 weeks before the paperwork needed to be done, so I knew a proposal was coming soon. Unless Husband had totally changed his mind. We went ring shopping and went on some great dates. No proposal. I was getting nervous.
We had a great road trip up the coast planned for the long weekend: camping, sight-seeing, hiking, drinking coffee and all of our favorite things. I was having a great time but Friday went by, then Saturday, then Sunday with a ridiculous amount of romantic spots and occasions but with no ring. I had made it a point to bring my cutest clothes and actually wear make-up so that I’d be photo-ready for the big moment. My one requirement for him was to make sure I looked cute when he proposed. But there was no big moment. By Monday, I gave up and wore my comfiest clothes, and didn’t bother with the looking cute. Good thing since Husband made us climb 3 miles straight up. I looked like a crazy person when I got to the top of this cliff – my hair was everywhere and I was covered in dirt and sweat. The view was worth it though.
As we stood looking out over the ocean, Husband told me to stay there while he took some pictures. After a few minutes, I turned around to see what on earth he was doing, just as he came sliding in on one knee with a little blue box in his hand.
Me: Really? You’re asking me now? I look terrible! What was my one request?!
Husband: Shut up and marry me.
Husband: On Friday.