Well, I turned 33.
I did not cry.
I think it’s the first birthday in the last five-six years that didn’t see me bursting into tears at some ridiculous moment.
I blame the lack of meltdown on the thoughtfulness of my children and husband, which guilted me into being sensible and not giving in to the annual loneliness and homesickness that plague me at every holiday. Those people are amazing, I tell you.
Anna and Sarah made me a wreath from found objects:
Yesterday also marked the 13th anniversary of the day Jason proposed.
In celebration of the milestone, a brief recounting…
It’s been nine months since I met Jason for the first time at an airport in Hong Kong. Our semester together is over, and we’ve been living in our home states since the choir tour to Australia in July.
Jason has ridden a Greyhound bus 36 hours from Texas to California to see me for my birthday. The night before my birthday, we walk the beach in Ventura, the only two people under the stars. Afterward we sit alone on the pier at Eric Ericson’s staring out over the water and chatting. He has the ring in his pocket the entire evening.
But skip that. Nothing happens.
Next day, my birthday, we’re sitting in my parents’ living room in the heat of the day.
Jason: Hey, wanna go for a walk?
Me: No. It’s hot.
Jason: Why not? We could walk down the bike trail. It’s shady.
Me: It’s only shady in front of the house. Once you get two blocks down, it’s full sun.
Jason: Come on, it’ll be fun. Let’s go walking. It’s so pretty on the bike trail.
Me: No.
Jason: Why not?
Me: I told you why not. It’s hot!
Jason: But it’s pretty!
Me: It’s only pretty to you, because you don’t live here. To me it’s only pretty when it’s cool outside.
Jason: Well, you want to walk around the church then?
Me: No.
Jason: Why not?
Me: It’s hot.
Jason: Let’s go driving, then.
Me: Where?
Jason: I don’t know. Downtown? Anywhere?
Me: No. I don’t have air conditioning.
Jason: Well, where do you want to go then?
Me: Nowhere. Let’s just hang out here.
Jason: Can we at least go out on the deck?
Me: (sigh) Fine.
We settle down in the cushy chairs on the back deck. Jason’s chair faces the valley and the orange trees and the mountains.
My view is composed of Jason, the wall, and my dad’s power tools.
He gets shaky. I notice. He starts rambling. I can’t remember what he actually said, but it was along these lines:
Jason: (ahem) Well, Becky, ever since I met you, I’ve known that you were the one I wanted to… (He’s reaching into his pocket.)
Me: What are you doing?
Jason: Um, well, just listen. I want you to know that I promise to love you and take care of you for… (He’s getting down on one knee.)
Me: Oh, no. No, no, no.
Jason: No?
Me: Are you doing what I think you’re doing?
Jason: Um, what do you think I’m doing?
Me: Oh, no. Ohmygosh. I don’t know. Just don’t do it.
Jason: Um… Don’t do what?
Me: What you’re doing. Just stop. You can’t.
Jason: Um… Why not? I thought we talked about it…
Me: Just not now. You can’t right now?
Jason: Why not?
Me: Because it’s too soon! Oh my gosh, you can’t! Just stop.
Jason: Are you saying no?
Me: No? No, I don’t think so. No, it’s just… You can’t right now!
Jason: But you’re not saying no?
Me: I don’t know! It’s September!
Jason: But I’m here right now. Can I go on?
Me: I don’t know! Ohmygosh! I don’t know!
Jason: Okay… I’m going to go on… (opens the ring box)
Me: Okay. Ohmygosh… Okay…
Jason: (more of the long speech I can’t remember) So, Rebecca Elayne, will you marry me?
Me: Let me think about it…
Jason sits there with the ring held out and his eyebrow cocked for what probably seems like an eternity.
Me: Okay, I guess so.
Jason relaxes.
Me: Ohmygosh! I’m engaged! Can I put the ring on now?
Jason: I don’t know. Let me think about it…
Oh. My. Goodness. ‘
And also good grief. That is amazing. How the two of you ever ended up with six kids is baffling–but I’m SO GLAD you sort of said yes and that he finally let you wear the ring.
I am also relieved to be told that September is not a month to ask someone to marry you. “But it’s September.” I was not aware that September was no marriage proposal month.
Wow, that was so funny…Poor Jason. Great come back! Well, it’s sure worked out 13 years and 6 kids later!
Hahahaha! That is an AWESOME proposal story! When Kevin was getting ready to propose to me, I consented to going on a hike with him- a hard hike. He was so excited he asked me if we could run up the trail. A tricky trail with switchbacks, etc. I said no. Poor guy. He could barely contain himself by the time we got to the top. He has always been that way- whenever he has a surprise for me, he cannot keep it a secret for long!
At the beach, I actually stopped and thought about it. All I could think was I wish I could call Scott and get a quick yes/no so I could do this thing properly at sunset, on the beach–as in NOW.
Well, my thoughtful pause got Becky’s attention, and when I refused to share, she insisted. She even went as far as threatening not to get in the car to go home until I told her what I was thinking about. Obviously I was not prepared to spoil this and so remained stone-faced.
Fortunately, a creepy beach bum looking guy was skulking nearby, and so she finally gave in when he started eyeballing us. I promised to tell her the next day after I got to go and visit with her Dad (hint-stinkin’-hint).
(Awkward father in law scene omitted)
Next morning I’m up at the crack of dark. Since I’d arranged with my profs to take extra time out of class, I had extra studying to do. I got it all done before the sun was up. Becky was still sleeping, of course.
I went to men’s prayer breakfast. I came back. Becky was still sleeping. Scott went to get coffee and bear claws and came back. I drank coffee and ate bear claws. Becky slept.
John Harrell started watching college football. A truly great game. Arkansas vs Alabama at Bryant-Denny Stadium decided by a single TD at about a quarter to lunch. That’s also when Becky woke up.
I thought, this is a close-knit family. I’m not the only person here she hasn’t seen in a while. I’ll sit back and not try to dominate her time while she has breakfast with her mom. She was SUPER MIFFED, “I can’t believe you just sat there ignoring me all morning watching football with my brother.”
“Well, hey I was just waiting for you. And now you’re up, so let’s go somewhere and we can talk about what it was I couldn’t tell you last night.”
(see her story for how that got us on the back deck)
So, on the deck I told her about what I’d been thinking and how I wished I could just call Scott right then at that very moment and get that business out of the way.
She said, “That’s it? That’s all? That’s what you tormented me over? Why couldn’t you just tell me that last night?”
“Well, obviously it would’ve spoiled the surprise.”
“What? What are you TALKING about? What surprise??”
I barely avoided falling out of the plastic deck chair (which is fatal error when you’re proposing btw) and got to one knee, ringbox in hand and said, “This surprise.”
Then I watch the face of loveliness that filled my every other waking moment and my every dream turn to horror as she waves both hands (signaling the incompletion) and screams, “NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
I don’t know how I got my next breath or how I pulled the rest of it off. She records the finish pretty accurately, and as for the powertools, I mean, that really is what you call hindsight.
The rest is the happiest life I could ever imagine for myself.