|APolaroid photo of us on|
Monday, March 27, 1995
Breaking the news at my mom's house.
Today my husband and I celebrate the anniversary of our engagement, 17 years ago. Actually, the anniversary was this entire weekend, which is kind of a long story. You see, it kind of took me a while to give him an answer. Like, um, more than 24 hours.
Before hubby and I married, we had what could be referred to as a four year, on-again, off-again period of dating, friendship and mutual hatred. Mostly the mutual hatred part. Yet neither could get the other out of our brains, and kept going back for more. Some people wondered why, including me, on occasion. But there was something good there, we were just too stupid to admit it early on. You know how that can be.
That last six months or so before hubby proposed, we had grown and settled, and become very good friends, but just friends. On March 25, 1995, before leaving for dinner at The Milton Inn, he gave me a dozen red roses. Imagine my surprise! He said I deserved it, having just survived yet another difficult period at work that included lots of bizarre events and weekly rounds of lay-offs.
We had a lovely dinner. After our meal, he popped the question, with little fanfare. No ring in the dessert, or anything like that. That's not his style, for which I am grateful. But surprised does not begin to explain the depth of my, um, shock. Yes, shock.
You see, I was way beyond thinking he would ever propose. At more than one point in our relationship(s) over the years I had hoped for it. But when it didn't happen, I eventually accepted that fact and decided I liked having him as a very good friend. We were really good at being friends, even traveling together at times.
Back to the story. So, he proposed Saturday night. The rest of Saturday night goes by. Sunday goes by. All day. I hummed, I hawwed (whatever that means). I guess I was thinking it over, but I do not remember that day at all. Hubby tells me, again because I do not remember, that I said "Yes" Monday morning, when I saw him on the bus. We lived in the same neighborhood and rode the same bus into downtown Baltimore every morning. In fact, that's where I first saw him, on the bus.
Earlier this weekend, I asked him what he did on that Sunday. He smiled and said, "I don't know, probably went to work." Science Geek. When I asked what he was thinking while waiting for my reply, he smiled again and said, "I wasn't sure, but I was hoping for a positive outcome." Science Geek Language.
Once I said yes, I don't know why he went through with it. The fact that it took me 24+ hours to get back to him should have told him something about my super-cautious, tendency to over-think things personality. But he did, and I am grateful every day that we both did!