Today I celebrate my six-year anniversary with My Knight. So I thought I’d let you in on how a knight does a wedding proposal. Well, this knight anyway.
There had been a few clues that it was coming. There were references to “when we get married,” or “when we get a house” , or “our kids will”, or “when we grow old we’ll.”
There was the purchase of a car, which is just complicated and needs to be a separate
story. Then we took a cruise to Mexico, and he had me run all the way back to the ship from a store to get his wallet and risk either him or both of us being stranded penniless in Mexico to buy me a “Mystic Topaz” because it was purple and green, my favorite colors. He asked with that ring if I thought that maybe I might marry him someday. (Yeah, that’s a whole ‘nother story that will have to be a separate blog. Let’s keep moving and just register here that I got a “Maybe Ring”.)
A month or so after the cruise and the “Maybe Ring”, we were in the mall, and he stopped in front of a jewelry store window. “What do you think of that ring?” he asked.
Well, having done over 3000 weddings in my career, I have seen A LOT of rings even some more creative choices such as custom silicone rings. And I hate traditional and ordinary. So I blurted out that I hated it. He pointed to another one. Yep, hated that one too. He pointed to a third ring, and it finally clicked in my head that this was not a random stop in the mall, and that his mood had changed significantly with my disapproval of the rings. So on the third one, I softened it a bit with, “It’s not really my style. It’s beautiful, though.”
He was quiet the rest of the night.
The next morning I received a call asking me to meet him at a jewelry store on the other side of town. When I got there, there were five rings laid out on a blue velvet tray. He asked if I liked any of those.
It was then that I realized that My Knight had probably already picked out a ring, and I had probably shot down a ring just like it at the mall. Oops.
“I don’t want to do this,” I said. “If you’re going to buy me a ring, I don’t want to know. I want it to be a surprise. I don’t want to know what it looks like, or what it costs, or when you buy it. I want you to just suddenly get down on one knee, and there’s a ring, and I have no idea. Either that or an extra special surprise like something you might see one of these wedding proposal planners devise for lasting memories.”
“Well, you hate everything I pick out.” Ooooooppppss. He turned to the jeweler. “If I’m the one buying the ring, it should be what I pick out, right? Shouldn’t it be what I like if I’m paying for it?”
The jeweler calmly answered, “Yeah, if you want her to show people the ring and say, ‘Here’s my ring.’ But if you want her to whip that ring out and flash it everywhere she goes and say, ‘Look! Look! Look at my ring!’ then you buy one she likes.”
Awkward situation, people.
I tried to smooth it over. “Honey, whatever you buy is fine. I’ll like it just because you bought it, and you picked it out, and it’s what you wanted me to have. It really doesn’t matter, and I really don’t want to do this. I don’t want to pick out my own ring. I don’t want to know,” I pleaded.
The jeweler asked me what types of rings I liked. So I told him. Something different. Something that looks old, antique, vintage. Something that doesn’t look like everyone else’s ring. Nothing huge and gawdy, more stylish and unique, something that tells a story About Us rather than about the jewel itself. I gave him some image ideas from a jeweler online called Haruni, and they knew exactly what I was going for.
He laid five absolutely exquisite perfect rings on the blue velvet. I loved them all. The jeweler had me try them on one by one, and there was one in particular that brought tears to my eyes against my will.
“That’s the one!” the jeweler smiled and crossed in arms in quiet, confident victory.
I took it off quickly. “I really don’t want to do this. I really don’t want it this way. I want to be surprised, and I want to have no idea what you’re planning or what you’re thinking.” Be careful what you wish for, folks.
I left the store alone and ringless, and I had no idea what he did regarding the jeweler or the ring.
My birthday rolled around about a month later, and I was pretty certain I was going to be getting a ring. And I was pretty bummed that I knew that. (I know, it’s a stupid thing to be bummed that some guy is buying you a gorgeous ring and asking you to spend your life with him, but I am a die-hard-to-the-core hopeless romantic, and I didn’t want to know.)
I had a huge wedding the night of my birthday, and I was on my feet for twelve hours and then driving home around midnight. I called his house, hoping in the back of my mind that maybe he was waiting at my house to surprise me for my birthday, but he answered at his house. I was bummed.
Then when I turned down my street, I saw his car in my driveway, even though I was talking to him on the phone at his house. Turns out he forwarded the phone to my house to throw me off! Oh boy, I was definitely getting engaged. I came in to find candles lit everywhere on every available space and soft music playing.
In the center of my living room was a large antique trunk we had found months earlier at a flea market, and he told me then it was going to be the first piece of furniture we bought together for the house we would have. And then he had teased me with it since then telling me I couldn’t have it until we got married. And here it was in my living room.
I started practicing my acceptance speech in my head and making a list of who all I would need to call in the morning to spread the good news.
He got down on his knees beside the trunk and said, “I have something for you in this trunk, but there’s something I need to ask you first.”
I nearly screamed “yes” right then, but thought perhaps I should allow him to ask.
Then he said, “I can’t wait; go ahead and open the trunk.”
Inside the trunk was a tiny little white box with a huge red bow. I reached in and picked it up, tears already streaming down my cheeks. He was smiling so big, and his eyes were all lit up by the candles, and I just wanted to freeze that moment forever. I opened the box very slowly, and there on the velvet were diamond earrings.
EARRINGS. EARRINGS. EARRINGS.
“Do you like them?” he asked, almost teary-eyed himself as he smiled at me.
“Um, yes. They’re earrings,” I said in shock.
“Yeah, I noticed you didn’t have any diamond earrings. Do you like them?
“Oh. I. Love. Them.” I forced out each polite word as I tried to convince myself that receiving diamond earrings from a guy on your birthday was a wonderful gift and worthy of much more appreciation than I was showing. Especially when there’s candles and music and surprises. And the earrings have “I Love You” engraved on the posts.
A month later, we went back to my home state for him to meet my whole family for the holidays. I decided in the back of my head that maybe he was just waiting to ask me in front of my family. I began to get excited about the trip, and I wondered how he was going to do it and when. Would it be Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning?
Christmas came and went. Great trip, but no ring or proposal. I was perplexed.
Undoubtedly, he’ll ask New Year’s Eve, I thought. Nope. We counted down to zero
with nary a pledge of lifetime love. I was now obsessed.
I called my mom. “I don’t get it. He bought me a car. He bought me a maybe ring. We stood in a jewelry store and picked out engagement rings. Do you think he changed his mind?”
“I don’t know. He asked your daddy Christmas Eve.”
What???? He asked my daddy and didn’t ask me? What’s up with that? Then I found out he asked my aunt and uncle who I am closest to. What????? Am I the only person he didn’t ask?
So I was even more obsessed. Did he change his mind? Was it meeting my family that did it? Did I do something wrong? Was he having second thoughts? I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He said he wanted to take me to the Catskill Mountains to go skiing and to meet his family in New York. Maybe he’s going to. . .No. I made myself stop thinking about it. Every time I would even think maybe he was going to ask, I would make myself stop thinking about it. It was a battle in my head that would have made people way more sane than I am go crazy.
The whole plane ride I wondered and stopped wondering. We checked into the most beautiful bed & breakfast sitting on a lawn of the most perfect white snow. And I wondered and stopped wondering.
We had an incredible breakfast at which the owner surprised us with free ski lessons for me after hearing that I had never been. It was the clearest, most beautiful day. I have never seen a sky so blue or snow so white. We skiied, (well, he skiied, I fell) we laughed, and somewhere in that day, I came to a place of peace where it didn’t matter if he was going to ask or not. It was a perfect day, and I was with the man of my dreams, and that was all that mattered. I just wanted to enjoy the day.
We arrived back to a room filled with roses. “Oh, how sweet,” I said. “The owner must have done this for us since we told her it’s our dating anniversary.”
“No, I did this!” he said indignantly. “I had them do all this.”
“Oh!” And it started again. Was he or wasn’t he? All through dinner and even afterwards, the battle in my head raged as I tried to convince myself just to be happy to be in the mountains, in a beautiful room, in front of the fire, surrounded by roses, with My Knight. I told myself how crazy it was to ruin the moment by wishing it was something else or wanting more. I cursed myself for not enjoying where I was. For not being satisfied with such an incredible day. For not just taking it as it came and being okay with. . .
It was about that moment that I realized he was holding a ring. Not just a ring. But THE ring. The one that had brought tears to my eyes in the store. And I also realized that he had been talking to me while I was talking to myself. And I had NO IDEA WHAT HE HAD SAID. I had been so busy in my own head, arguing with myself, wrestling with my thoughts, that I had just completely and entirely missed My Knight’s wedding proposal.
“Can you say that again?” I asked. “I don’t know what you said.”
“What???” Turns out he didn’t really know what he said either because he had his own mental nervousness going on, so he just asked. And I said “Yes!”.
And neither one of us will ever really know what was said the first time for My Knight’s wedding proposal.
Happy Anniversary, My Knight in Shining Armor!! I love you, and I still say Yes!