Blog-Bud Jim's 20th anniversary is comin' up... on the 29th of this month (yes, the 29th)... and he's re-running a series of old posts describing how he met his beloved, how he proposed, the wedding, yadda, yadda. It's all great good stuff and you would be well-served to go read. I know that a lot o' you Gentle Readers already have Jim in your RSS feeds or other blog-reading apps but I'm also pretty sure some of you haven't been to his place. So go. EVERYONE loves a love story and theirs is a great one.
Apropos o' not much... part of today's post was Jim's description of his proposal, about which I said this:
Well, there was - I'm sorry to say - nothing so glorious about my proposal.True story. "Doin' it right" meant me getting on bended knee and formally asking her to marry me, with a suitable presentation of the ring. I was also required to meet with TSMP's father and ask for her hand in marriage. That didn't go so well, but it's prolly better that we not discuss the encounter. Suffice to say her father did consent to give her away, but only after offering to buy her a car and send her to grad school if she'd walk away... right as they were getting ready to walk down the aisle... and that's the TRUTH.
Sez you. I'm of the mind that ANY proposal, given the gravity of the situation and the life-altering outcome(s), is glorious. So there's that.
I don't remember how I proposed to The Second Mrs. Pennington. We had a three-year courtship and I think it was mutually decided sometime in our second year that yes, we would marry, but she had to finish school first. College, to be clear. She already had her junior high diploma.
That said... I DO remember giving her the engagement ring. We were spending the summer together in Plentywood, Montana (between her junior and senior year) the year before we married and I had recently inherited my grandmother's engagement ring. The lawyer handling the estate mailed the ring to me (yes, via USPS) and I had to sign for it at the post office on my way home from work one day.
I get home to our walk-up flat, climb the stairs, and toss her the package, sayin' sumthin' lame like "your ring came today." And the earth moved, and NOT in a Good Way. Long story shorter: I was sent downstairs and told to "come back and do it RIGHT." I did, she did, and we enjoyed 20 years o' wedded bliss until it all blew up.