And none of our kids had ballgames last night.
A rarity with us.
Brian asked me on Monday if I wanted to go out for dinner on Tuesday.
I sort of knew something was up, but not because of the dinner-out-on-Tuesday invite....
....something was up because last week he started picking his dirty laundry up off the floor and placing it in the laundry basket located literally just a few steps away from the aforementioned pile-up that collected on the bathroom floor.
....but to me, this was a huge step.
and romantic, if I do say so myself.
hmmmmm. something is going on here.
So then we are driving into town and we go to the mall. Not a place we shop at often. But Brian needed a new belt.
I've been telling him he needed a belt for months.
hmmmmmm.....picking up the laundry AND finally making this purchase I've been telling him to make for a long time?
I knew then that we were shopping for a ring.
I picked out a super gorgeous band that was a little wider than a traditional wedding band and had small diamonds in a design throughout the ring. I don't really like the traditional diamond engagement rings....at least not on my hand.
But we walked around the store and Brian saw another ring. It had a little more color in it. I really loved it. So much that I almost walked out of the store with two rings. Not even kidding.
I got the one that Brian picked out. Which is funny because he wanted to shop for rings with me because he was nervous about getting just the right one.
So we go out to eat and we head home.
The ring is still in the box. Because I know that Brian wants to propose marriage to me in his own unique and memorable way.
Like, in his t-shirt and underwear.
Sort of fitting, considering it was this type of laundry that first alerted me to the fact that something was going on.
So I'm in my room, in my jammies, checking emails and he comes in and gets down on one knee and....after five short years of dating....he proposes.
I said sure!
And I cried. And I went and got this letter that I wrote to him:
I love you.
And I love you and me together.
You have been there for me when all is well: the good days of parenting, the exciting times when something I have written makes it to publication, when I am feeling on top of my game and on top of the world.
You have been there for me on days of nothing special: the days of going through the motions, we eat, work, sleep and wake up and do it all again the next day.
You have been there for me in times of trial: when good health wasn’t a guarantee, when kids veer from what we think is best, when money in the bank doesn’t exist, when motives have been attacked by those on the outside.
You have been there for me even when you weren’t sure you understood me: you listen to my off-the-wall way of making sense of things, you don’t roll your eyes at me when my mouth doesn’t take the time to filter through things that should have stayed in my head, and month after month you put up with the emotional roller coaster ride that I drag you on. (You should get a medal for that one)
The last five years have been full of life and everything that it means. Fun, games, humor. Happy tears, sad tears, trials of many varieties. Kids…mine and yours.
The writer in me knows that every good story worth immersing yourself in takes the reader through ups and downs, with love, action and mystery. One in which the reader feels connected with the words on the page. Our story has not been the perfect fairy tale. But it is our perfect story, a story that I am connected to on a soul-level, and one that is still being written. It has taken us a while to figure out that the only thing that comes close to the perfect that we wish for is this:
You and me together. Living life with all of its ups and downs…together.
Yes, I will marry you. I will proudly walk through each chapter of the rest of our lives together with you.