
It was not a big surprise. Not in the sense that we have always
talked about getting married. Not in the sense that on New Years, Paul
asked my parents for the OK. Not in the sense that on a rainy day in
January we went to look at rings.
And yet, it was.
As
he was talking, my mind raced trying to figure out if this was really going to be it or if
this was just him saying “I love you.” I finally knew when he reached down and out of his flannel pajama pocket came a
little ring. No box. Just a ring. He did not say, “Will you marry me?” He
did not get down on one knee. My hair was not hot at all. It was not
how I pictured it.
And yet, it was.
It was so us. So everyday. So “Hey, I love you. Be mine. Forever.”
We
opened a bottle of very nice wine and celebrated on the couch with
dinner of chicken, cornbread and asparagus. I made Paul do a toast. He
hates toasts. But he said “To us, the young love birds…” and I
finished up with “…who will one day be wise old owls.” And then I
said something like, “Can you believe we have 80 more years together?
Oh my god, we are going to have grandbabies!” And he laughed and I laughed and it was good.
I spent the night smiling and looking at my ring. And I took some time to email and call my family and the girls. And there was some kissing (with Paul, not the girls).
I am in love with a man. A very good man. I am planning a wedding. A very good wedding.
Based
on his school/becoming a doctor schedule – we think the wedding will be
in April 2010 in California, of course. I will do my best to keep this blog from becoming a TLC
wedding story.
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I am so overwhelmed with all the sweet comments and emails throughout the day. Thank you. Thank you.
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