There were rules, but we chose to ignore them. Proposal on bended knee? Nah. Diamond ring? Oh, please.We were not the knee-dropping, diamond ring-popping kind in those days. Instead, my boyfriend of 4 1/2 years came over to my house one afternoon in February, dodged the sheepdog and the–by then– two cats, and my three roommates, and took me by the hand. He led me to my room and closed the door. He had kind of a funny look on his face. I thought for a moment he wanted to break up with me. He looked very serious as he placed his hands on my shoulders and asked me to marry him. Yes, he did ask me to m-m-m-marry him and yes, I laughed and then yes I said yes… and OK, that’s enough of that.
We came out of my room and announced the news to my roommates and the dog. (The cats couldn’t have cared less.) One of the guys said, “Now we’ll all have to move!” and then the other guy went and got a bottle of champagne he’d been saving for a special occasion and popped the cork. We were all a bit giddy.
I called my sister, had another glass of bubbly. and then called my parents. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hi! I’ve got some big news.
Me:Well…B asked me to marry him!
Parents: (long pause) And what did you say?
Me: I said YES!
Parents: (longer pause, then…) Oh?
Me: Um, yeah.
Parents: (incredibly long pause) What kind of food should we have?
We decided that September sounded like a good month to get married. Seven months was plenty of time to plan a no- frills wedding, right? The next day I went into work at the law school and told everyone I was engaged. They all looked at my left hand, where there still wasn’t a ring.
We were twenty-one years old, and really didn’t have a clue what the next few months (years?) would be like.
But who ever does?
To be continued….