Strains from a small live band flitted over to our table, as I sat staring across the candlelight flame into the eyes of my adoring man. I had just finished eating the most exquisite meal and was now awaiting a sinfully rich chocolate desert. Fresh flowers filled our personal space with the aroma of rose petals. An eager waiter hovered close by waiting to fulfill our every wish. In my mind, nothing could be more perfect about this night. Little did I know it was about to get even better. A sparkling diamond awaited me, served with desert.
As the ever romantic FringeMan dropped to one knee, took my hand, and pledged his forever love, onlookers drew in a long breath of anticipation. How could I resist the look of raw passion blazing from his eyes? Throwing my arms around his neck, I half laughed, half cried yes, yes, yes.
Applause erupted from ever corner of the restaurant, echoing off the dimly lit ceiling. The band struck up a song dedicated to our new young love. This remarkable moment will forever be etched in my mind.
AND, in my mind alone.
Buzzzz, Buzzzz…my doorbell was ringing. As I hauled my lazy body up off the couch to go answer the door, I tried to figure out who it could be. My brother was home, my mom at my grandparent’s house, and I wasn’t expecting company. It was my night ‘off’.
I always took Thursday nights off from dating, seeing friends, and being social in general. Thursday nights I lounged around in pajamas, watched TV, read, or did anything I WANTED! My boyfriend (later husband) didn’t always understand this “night off” concept, but it was my rule. After all, a girl needs her space.
Apparently, FringeMan didn’t think I needed my space this Thursday.
“What are you doing here? It’s my night off.” I asked opening the door.
How could he resist me?
Acting much weirder than usual (considering his extreme personality, that’s scary), FringeMan came in looking like he was trying to hide something. He fidgeted more than a flea and turned 4 shades of red, pink, fuchsia, and salmon before pulling a ring box out of his pocket, falling to one knee, and blurting out “Will you marry me?”
I was so surprised.
It was so sudden.
This was my night off!
A beautiful diamond, nested in a band of small chips, sparkled up at me.
“Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” I cried out with joy.
My brother, wondering what all the commotion was about, poked his head around the living room door frame. I ran to show him my diamond and share my blissful news. He was so happy for us; he offered to make us all Sabrett hot dogs. It was true cause for celebration.
Nowadays, we good parents know not to use food as a reward. Using food as a reward causes our children to have an unhealthy relationship with what should be purely an energy source. Instead food becomes an expression of celebration, disappointment, and comfort, ultimately contributing to morbid obesity and early death.
Back when I was a kid, my parents obviously were not privy to such scientific data. Food was always used as a means of celebration; therefore, Sabrett and not just cheapo wieners would mark my engagement. My brother couldn’t have been happier for us.
Immediately, I thought, my mother MUST know. “Let’s run over to my grandparent’s house!” I urged FringeMan.
On the way over, we decided to allow my family to discover the diamond I was flashing for themselves.
My mom, aunt, and grandparents were all sitting around the kitchen table having coffee when we got there. We joined them and immediately I began talking mostly with my hands. For a moment, I thought our surprise would go undiscovered. Perhaps this rock of mine was not large enough after all…
Just as doubts descended like an angry vulture, her talons tightening their grip on my joy, a burst of light bounced from my diamond straight into my mother’s eye. Unfortunately for those in spraying range, she’d just gulped from her coffee cup.
Eye widening to the size of half-dollars, her cheeks squeezed inward (resembling a blow fish just before it blows) and a rather large stream of coffee sprayed from her lips across the entire table. Each of us in her wake was drenched. There was no doubt, she’d seen the ring.
Once again, my family had reason to celebrate and my grandmother insisted this remarkable day should be commemorated with nothing less than a Carvel ice-cream cake. That night I began an unhealthily relationship with food, but an adventure filled future with FringeMan.
This is actually a repost from Oct. 6, 2008, but I didn’t have any readers back then. 😉 Some of you are wondering how I knew FringeMan was ‘the one’. Considering the fact that I didn’t eat my veggies and this alone was sure to send us to divorce court, it’s cause for wonder. It is this verse that erased my doubt and sealed my fate.
1 John 4:18 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.
You can visit Musings of a Future Pastor’s Wife for more love stories…maybe you’d want to tell your own…click HERE.
For my full story, see the FringeLove link on my header.