The Watchman

The Watchman

Sunday, June 20, 2010

In the Beginning

Twenty two years ago I married the man most perfect for me. Notice, I did not say the most perfect man, but the man most perfect for me. When he proposed, Rick wrote me a poem. That has become a theme throughout our marriage. He will always purchase a card and then instead of just signing his name, he will compose a poem about something that is going on in our life at the time or about how he feels about our marriage or our life together. Sometimes these poems are silly and make me laugh and sometimes they are touching and make me cry. Always they are a sweet and let me know he loves me.

When he proposed, this is what he wrote:
Come fly with me
And be a part of my life
You are my best friend
Now be my wife.

I know it won't win any literary awards, but it, along with the rest of the production, did show that he really put some thought into how he wanted to do things and how well he knew me. Believe it or not, the idea for this proposal all started before either of us were born with my parents. When my dad proposed to my mom, he took her to dinner at a local Chinese restaurant and then took her home. When they were parked in front of her house, so the story goes, he told her there might be something she wanted in his glove box. It turned out to be her engagement ring. Never let it be said that my dad isn't the one for the big romantic gestures.

I'm sure Rick had heard this story a time or two while we were dating. So on the evening of the "Proposal", he had let me know we were going to go somewhere fun for dinner - a Japanese restaurant in Salt Lake City. Dinner was pretty normal filled with talk of work, school, family, etc. After dinner we walked back to the car where he told me that there might be something in the glove box I would like. Sure enough, there was a ring box, only it did not contain that much desired and at this point expected engagement ring, but a pair of faux ruby earrings instead. Now I don't remember much about the conversation on the drive back to Ogden, except for Rick asking me what was wrong and didn't I like the earrings. I am sure my answers consisted of words like nothing and fine.

When we got back to my house, he told me he needed some things he had left in my room. All I wanted was for him to leave so I could cry myself to sleep and let my sisters know what a jerk this guy was. When we got to my bedroom, which was in the basement, on my bed was the largest helium balloon I had ever seen (I still am not sure how our mothers got it down the stairs) done up like a hot air balloon with flowers, a stuffed cat and the card with the poem. Of course all was forgiven, once I did find the ring nestled on the paw of the cat.

At that time he promised me that if I married him, my life would always be an adventure. Now, 22 years later, I can honestly say that through all the ups and downs, for better or worse, in good times and bad, through the laughter and the tears; I have never been bored.

Happy Anniversary Rick! I am as always, your lady.