“I’d say, ‘Yes’.”
“Does that mean we’re engaged?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t ask me to marry you. And I know what I mean when I say yes to that question, but I’m not sure that you do . . .” (What exactly was I thinking?)
“And?”
“And it’s night. People get more emotional at night. We’ve been out with your parents and had a great time. It was like being with friends, having dinner and wine. Night is romantic. So if you want to ask me to marry you do it in the daylight. Then I’ll know you mean it.”
That was Monday. And it was November and it was Chicago. Daylight ended somewhere around 4 p.m. Work ended somewhere around 5 p.m. For three nights the conversation was basically the same.
“Your dad is dying. I want him to know that you have someone who really loves you.”
“That is wonderful. I’m floating. I love you too. But I’m serious. Daylight.”
Three nights of lovely conversations. Three nights of me saying thank you and then saying, “Daylight.” I needed to believe in something harsh as the light of day. If I got married I wanted to be able to stand up in front of God and everybody and be able to say I believed in forever.
“On Friday, at 2 p.m. a massive basket of expensive flowers arrived where I worked. I had a card with “I love yous” written all over it. It was signed in all caps and the words were underlined three times. It said, “AND I STILL WANT TO MARRY YOU!”
I found a phone and dialed his office. He picked it up on the first ring. The conversation was like the rest.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yes.”
“All right!” Two voices said together.
That was 29 days after we met 23 years, 2 months, and 21 days ago.
—me strauss Letting me be
16 comments:
Liz, what a wonderful post, thank you for sharing that.
Hope all is well my friend (hugs)
Hmmm, I'll have to remember to ask in daylight. I've never heard of such a connection between romantic intent and the Earth's solar cycle.
But I just happen to agree with the rationale.
Hello mergrl!
I am well. Thank you for the compliment. It is good to see you again. I just finished the proposal for the start up business that I hope to get off the ground. Now it's back to the MIT book to keep my son in college. Miss you.
Liz
Hello Patrick,
I've been thinking of you as we've been redoing Successful Blog. :)
The more romantic at night was just a feeling I had and it seemed to be true--still does. Made me feel safe to make sure he he had thought about asking such an important question. By the way I don't recommend getting married in 42 days, but I think it was the only it would have worked for us.
smiles,
Liz
Wow :)
I've always beleived I'd KNOW when I found the right person. My mom says she knew the first time she kissed my father. My friends said they 'knew' when they met the one.
They've all just reinforced my view that when you meet your other half you'll know. And now you have further confirmed my belief :)
Thanks for sharing.
Hi Jennifer,
It was either marry him or do without him. I think we've built a nice history together and we have a wonderful son to show for it. Our wedding pictures sort of look like we're shaking hands after cutting the ribbon to open a new bridge or something. :)
Liz
awwwwe,
That was magical.
You've gone and done it again! I will now burn the kids dinner while I write my own memory of proposal.
If you dont slow down, Im not gonna have a life! LOL
Cool story. I love the logic of it. :)
Hi Kelley,
Wow!
If you have a life, can I the live vicariously?
smiles,
Liz
Hi Liz,
I never thought of it as being logical. I always thought of it as being so impulsive. But now that you say that I see what you mean. Maybe I was being logical to protect myself from the impulsiveness of it all.
smiles,
Liz
Liz,
Being patient by waiting for "daylight" in order to see more fully and clearly has helped shape what seems to be an incredible commitment toward each other. Thank you for sharing such a poignant, heartfelt moment of your life.
Scot
Scot,
What a lovely interpretation of the story of my life. Thank you.
Liz
This is interesting and unique, oh and full of good luv vibes.
If I remember correctly, I’ve sort of blocked it, mine went like this:
Me: “It’s Easter, you forgot it was Easter?” Said more as an accusation, rather than a question.
He: “I know it’s Easter.”
Me: “Don’t you guys exchange bunnies or anything at Easter?”
He: “Well, I got you this…”
It was a solitaire. I felt like an imbecile, no, more like bunny dung.
Hi Lori,
Interesting and unique--that's us the Nerd family. A shrink once said, "Unusual people will have unusual children." :)
But it worked and you're not bunny dung, just a normal person who, like me, doesn't do well with surprises. I'll bet he laughed and you did too.
smiles,
Liz
Beautiful story, Liz. :) My husband let his intentions be known two months after we met. This Spring, we will celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary.
Hi Deborah,
Thank you for stopping by. It's amazing how many people know so soon who they will spend the rest of their life with and as we know the rest really is history.
Liz
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