Proposal stories are all over the internet. You’ll find them on YouTube, Pinterest, and blogs galore. Early on, I told The Hunk that the proposal was important to me. I wanted a good story and I wanted to be surprised. Every girl I knew dreams of the proposal from the man with whom she’ll spend the rest of her life. I was no exception.
Before proposal videos and blog posts exploded on the internet, my hunk asked me to marry him.
The Proposal
On April 9, 2009, I was at Scott High School, where I was employed at the time, working after school with a student group. We were working on developing a community technology proposal for a state competition. With all of the love in my heart, I considered this a sort of nerd club. I got a call from the front office. I had a visitor.
What I couldn’t figure out is why the guest wasn’t on the way to my room. And who was this guest?
So, I walked up to the front office and the lovely secretary said that my visitor was out by my car.
I left the building and there he was–standing next to my car. I greeted him with a hug and sweet kiss. He was warm and calming. “What are you doing here?” I asked. He whipped out a beautiful bouquet of crisp, red roses. I stood, agape, and accepted them in my hands.
“This is one rose for every month since we met online,” he declared. I was speechless and could feel the union of my grin and some intense blushing. I had totally forgotten that we’d met online exactly 12 months previously. What a guy! What kind of guy remembers an anniversary that I had forgotten!? I was floored!
But I had a meeting and needed to get some things done with my students, as our plan needed more work for our upcoming state presentation. So, Seth joined me.
And I put him to work. The district had just installed a drop projector from my ceiling, but it wasn’t plugged in. I asked him to Jerry-rig the projector so that it’d be plugged in so I could finally use it in my classroom. I was pumped. I still remember seeing him walk across desk chairs and the desktop of my second desk. He’s such a graceful walker, I thought. And, also, we need to update his jeans wardrobe.
Eventually, I rushed through the rest of my meeting and gave the students jobs to do before the next meeting.
And we took off for my place.
We were sitting on the couch, the same couch where he’d once called me beautiful, and he said, “I thought we’d go for a walk so you can start working on your summer tan.” I was suspicious of his motives and, as I got up to change from my teacher clothes into casual clothes, I lost all self-control and slapped his right pocket. He must’ve known I was searching for a ring box.
“That’s just keys,” he said. Later, I learned that he’d just switched the ring box to the other pocket. I walked away to my room to change and use the restroom.
As I walked from my restroom, I looked in the mirror and mouthed to myself, “This may be the last time you see yourself not engaged!” Even if I didn’t get engaged that day, I was thrilled to see my man and to feel so cherished by his remembering our cyberversary, as we began to refer to it.
So we walked the path we’d walked so many times before. Except this time, I wanted to walk around the lake. The weather was beautiful. There were swans and geese on the lake and old men were fishing and little boys were riding tricycles on the path. The sun was shining from a virtually cloudless sky and the temperature was perfect for a walk.
We walked around the lake and concluded by stopping by our favorite place–the first-kiss gazebo. We nuzzled up and looked out across the small lake. The scenery, while quaint, was beautiful. Like our love.
And then he turned to me. He was calm and began complimenting me. He said, “Rebecca, you’re beautiful and loving and…” about a billion other compliments. Gosh, this guy is romantic, I thought. But there was just one problem: He was as calm as a cucumber. At our six month anniversary, I remembered, he was noticeably jittery, and, of course, we can’t forget how nervous he was on our first date. My hand was on his chest and I couldn’t feel a heartbeat. His hand was on my back and it was relaxed. He was for sure not proposing. There’s no way this guy could ask a question as serious and life-changing as “Will you marry me?” and be so chill.
So I did what I usually do. I got silly. Neither of us remember what I said at that point, but I got goofy; unphased, he bounced right out whatever silliness I was saying, back to one more serious compliment.
“I love you and I was wondering:” I felt him pull away and then saw him, in one graceful motion, move to one knee with a ring box open facing me, “Will you marry me?”
At that moment, I realized he’d successfully surprised me. He’d fooled me and successfully proposed in a meaningful and simple way. And before he finished his question, I wanted to pull him off his knee and accept his sweet proposal. But I knew he’d never let me live it down–that I hadn’t let him finish the question he was going to ask once and only once. So, I let him finish.
But as soon as he did, I whisked him up from his knee and said with tears in my eyes and as much enthusiasm as this girl can ever have, “Yes! Yes! Of course! Of course! Yes!” and I fiercely pulled him close. I heard the ring box snap closed behind me as we hugged. According to Seth, the ring almost went into the lake because I jerked him up so quickly! Obviously, we’re glad that didn’t happen.
As we hugged, I couldn’t see through my tears. We kissed and I saw his tears begin to fall with mine.
As with most newly engaged couples, we had to start making phone calls. First, I wanted to call my parents. This is when I learned that Seth had driven down to Kentucky from Columbus to ask my parents for permission to marry me. And he told my dad, who can’t keep secrets to save his life, not to call me, mention it, or even think about it and that Seth would have me call him first. He’d told my dad the whole plan for proposing–down to what time it should happen.
So, I called my dad. He was lying on the couch with the phone on his chest. Waiting. And then I spoke to my mom and we continued to call our important people–my sisters, Seth’s parents, and best friends.
We turned off our phones and had dinner, then proceeded to go to Maundy Thursday service at my church, where we were able to tell my pastor, my mentor and close friend, and some of my favorite people at church. We participated in the foot-washing service, which was sweet. Seth remembers that I tickled his feet as I washed them.
Of course, that evening, he had planned to return to Columbus, but it was late by the time he was ready to leave. So, he stayed at my place and I stayed with a friend. The next morning, I came back to get ready for work and greeted him as he left for Columbus.