The Proposal

Today's is my and hubby's 13th anniversary. It seemed a good time to document and share our proposal story.

It was a hot day. A really hot day. The ohmylord humid kind of day that is normal for July and August in these parts. I'd driven from home down to the camp where hubby was working for the summer. This was pre-GPS and I have the directional sense of a marshmallow. In short, I was proud of myself for getting there without getting lost. Because, really, it was quite an achievement.

When I arrived, the camp manager (who became my bff many years later!) handed me a clue of where to find hubby. It was something about going to where we'd first met. I had no idea. Plus, even once I figured out he meant the pool, I had no idea where the pool was! I'd only been to this camp once before, and it had been like a year before. And, as previously noted, I am directionally impaired.

Once I got to the pool (with future-bff's assistance), there was another clue, and another, and another. Now, I gotta be honest here. I was fairly certain I knew what was at the end of this trail. So I had some motivation. However, it was hot and humid (have I mentioned that?) and I was getting kind of cranky. I was also starting to doubt whether there would be a ring at the end. Truly, if there hadn't been, what would still have been a lovely, romantic gesture, would have just ticked me off.

When I finally climbed the hill to the shelter (after, I might add, getting lost not once, but twice), I saw it was decorated and there was music playing. Hubby was in the middle and a chair was sitting in front of him. He was so, so very nervous. I've only seen him nervous a couple of times, probably never had before that.

If hubby were to tell this story, at this point he'd probably say that I plopped right down in that chair and stuck out my hand to him, shoving it in his face, awaiting, no demanding my ring. I, however, am fairly certain he's confused. I don't remember it happening that way at all.

I remember him taking my hand and leading me to the chair and asking me to sit down.

I remember thinking "finally!". Finally, what, I'm not quite sure. Probably, finally I can sit down and have this fan blow on me.

I remember him getting down on one knee.

I don't remember at all what he said.

I remember tearing up.

I remember not being able to talk.

I remember nodding yes.

I remember holding my hand out to him, delicately (not shoving it in his face!).

I remember his hands shaking.

I remember the ring on my finger.

I remember us both crying.  And laughing. And happy. And love. So, so much love.

That's what I remember.

Happy anniversary, dear husband.