Sunday, Feb. 12, marks an important anniversary in my life. Ten years ago on that date I proposed to my wife, Jenny, while at a restaurant in Ripon.
At the time of my proposal we had been dating for nearly 10 months, but we had known each other for four years. We had met at a wedding in 1998, and I had liked her immediately. She was a bridesmaid and I was an usher, and during rehearsals the night before we flirted with each other, despite the fact she had a boyfriend (a complete loser in my opinion, so he didn’t really count).
We flirted more at the wedding, and danced together during the reception. The next day I even went to the gift opening in hopes of seeing her. I’m not normally the type of guy who goes to a gift opening, as I’d rather dip my head in tomato paste than watch someone else open gifts. My decision to attend the gift opening was noticed by my family who whispered about it to each other, as they tend to do when someone who isn’t married by the time he is 20 as he they think he ought to be is taking notice of a single girl.
She could tell by the whispering that I must have been interested in her, so she told her boyfriend to amuse himself after he called her in an attempt to get her to ditch the gift opening and go out with him and his friends.
The boyfriend kept me from asking her for her phone number, as I figured she’d say no if I asked. That didn’t stop me from asking someone else for her number, just in case I decided to become the type of guy who doesn’t care about boyfriends.
Several weeks later my grandmother told me she had heard Jenny was disappointed I had never called. Fearless learning this information, I called 20 minutes later. She made it clear she had a boyfriend, though, but she’d be happy to go out as friends. Much later, after I had told her what my grandmother had said, she noted she never said anything of the sort. Clearly, my grandmother was up to some Betty White tactics in getting me to be rather youthful.
We went out and saw “There’s Something About Mary,” and hung out a number of times as friends. I wanted more than friendship, especially after realizing her boyfriend was an even bigger loser than I had originally thought and that he didn’t appreciate her as well as he should have.
I even made a mix tape of songs I thought would swoon her: “Thunder Road” by Bruce Springsteen, “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” by the Ramones, “Shelter from Storm” by Bob Dylan. The Ramones song probably wasn’t subtle enough in its message because it frightened her enough to prevent her from listening to the tape.
We became good friends, and I stuck by her through the end of her relationship with her boyfriend. She wasn’t ready for me, though. I was already a college graduate working a full-time job and she was only a sophomore in college. Unable to accept that decision, I told her I couldn’t be friends anymore.
We didn’t talk for more than six months. I met another girl and we dated for several months. When it became clear that relationship wouldn’t work, I called Jenny one day to apologize for my behavior and to tell her I’d like to be friends again.
However, she was skeptical at this point, and in school, so our conversations were limited. Over the next few years we saw each other a few times, and talked occasionally, but our friendship was just that, friendship.
As she neared graduation, we met some friends at a bar in Wautoma during her spring break and enjoyed the evening together. She called me the next day to tell me she realized on the way home that night she had feelings for me.
Those were words I had wanted to hear for three years.
After dating all summer, fall and most of the winter, I asked her father for permission to marry her. I knew I would get a “yes,” as he was pushing her to date me for the years we were just friends.
I popped the question at Michael’s in Ripon, while we were looking for an apartment we would share together. Two days before Valentine’s Day, she never expected it, although I knew she had wanted it, based on all the hints she had been dropping in the months prior to my proposal.
The last 10 years have been the best ones in my life. We’ve shared plenty of good, and not-so-good, experiences, had a son we adore, bought several houses, moved five times and pursued even more education to hopefully better our lives.
The next 10 years should be interesting, too. But I’ll address that next week.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, Feb. 10, 2012.
No comments:
Post a Comment