Friday, December 5, 2008

Will You Marry Me?

I was expecting a proposal the summer of 2007. In the meantime, I would daydream about what Daniel might be planning and look at rings online when I was supposed to be writing papers.

One week in the middle of April that year, Daniel (a psychology major) asked me to go with him to a “Careers in Psychology” presentation in one of the auditoriums on campus. This didn’t seem unusual to me, since I had gone to one on “Careers in Communications” earlier in the semester. The presentation would be on Friday afternoon, and I wasn’t thrilled to be going with him. He insisted, though, saying that he really wanted me to hear the presentation, since his career would also affect me. I wasn’t totally convinced, but I agreed to go—Daniel had the idea that we could go out for ice cream at Friendly’s afterwards, so that put me in a pretty good mood. It was a beautiful day, and when it was time for the presentation I sang “I’m Alright” by Jo Dee Messina as we walked across campus.

When we got to the auditorium, no one else was there yet. I thought Daniel had gotten the auditorium wrong, and was about to turn around to go back out the door when I froze. Projected on the wall in the front of the room was a picture of me and Daniel from our freshman year. “Daniel, why is someone looking at a picture of us on there?” That particular picture was part of a photo album I had on Facebook, so I thought that’s where it came from. It was eerie, like I was part of a Twilight Zone episode or something—I’m sure you know the feeling.

Daniel led me to a row right in the middle of the auditorium and told me to sit down, and he walked down the steps to the front, where the laptop computer was set up. After a few minutes of technical difficulties (during which another couple walked in and was told by a flustered Daniel to leave because whatever event they were looking for was clearly somewhere else), a slideshow started.

Three songs played (“Accidentally In Love” by Counting Crows, “Lifesong” by Casting Crowns, and then “Everything I Do” by Bryan Adams) while various photos from throughout our relationship appeared one by one. Every time a distinctly seasonal picture would show up on the wall, such as the two of us bundled up with snow falling, Daniel would say, “It’s winter,” or “Look, it’s fall.” I figured I knew what he was doing, but I kept second-guessing myself for some reason or another.

As the last song was nearing its end and a sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean took its turn on the wall, Daniel said, “Look, it’s summer. Sarah, what happens in summer?” I was scared, which is something I definitely didn’t expect. I had known for a long time that I wanted to marry Daniel, and there was not a doubt in my mind. But I was scared anyway. It was really and truly happening. Right then.

Daniel got down on one knee and pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Sarah C— B—, I love you, and I will always love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I wasn’t crying. I always thought that I would cry. “Will you marry me?” He opened the box and put the most beautiful diamond ring on my finger (with the words “In Christ” engraved inside the band). And even though my heart and mind were both racing, I had thought about this moment enough to know what I wanted to say. So I said “yes.”

And then we went out for ice cream with our friends, as if the day needed to be any more perfect.

Check in next week for miscellaneous updates!


Anonymous said...

So when is the wedding?


Jeanette said...

CHILLS :) and tearing up and smiles..and ahh ..I just remember everything so clearly..i've never heard that part of it all told by you though, like that and it just brought tears to my eyes. love u both.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful! As another engaged, Catholic, recently-graduated young woman, I enjoy reading your blog. I looked at rings online instead of writing papers, too, and the zenith of my engagement obsession came when I looked up probably 100 baby names instead of writing my thesis the semester before my fiance proposed.