Eight years ago, I had no body fat, no gray hair, and relatively no wrinkles or bags under my eyes. I was still just a skinny naive 20 year old, and the world was my oyster. But I had recently made a life change to follow Jesus, and I had a hott girlfriend, so life was as good as I could have asked for. So one day I got a crazy notion, to surprise Amanda on her 19th birthday by recreating our first date, and then giving her some diamonds.
What an awful and stressful week that was. To be kind to myself, let’s just say I am a wise an thrifty shopper. But the ring Amanda had unknowingly said she wanted cost a lot; especially for a JC sudent, who worked at the Sears Parts and Service Center, who was about to quit that job to start a church internship and start bile college. But I went into the ring shop where she had said she saw the ring she loved, I told the guy the one I wanted, I made him give me a cash discount (he took like $200 off before tax, which made the ring still really expensive). I walked out of the store and headed to my car, thinking that everyone I passed somehow knew I had this expensive ring in my pocket, and wanted to mug me. I maneuvered my way safely to the car and headed off for a chat with Amanda’s dad.
There’s nothing scarier than talking to the dad of the girl you want to marry. Before that chat though, someone gave me some incredible advice, which I now pass on to you, my readers: Don’t ask for their permission, ask for their blessing. It isn’t up to them to give permission because it isn’t their choice; don’t be a fool and offer that power to them. Side note: If this is being read 15-20 years from now, and you are some kid who wants to marry one of my daughters, you will ask for my permission. So I went over and talked to Amanda’s dad, who gave me his blessing. That was a Friday.
Amanda’s birthday was a Monday that year, so I had to hope nobody in her family said anything, I didn’t tell anyone other than her Dad what I was doing. I waited through what seemed like the longest weekend in history, Monday rolled around and my genius plan of recreating our first date was set in motion. We packed a picnic lunch, and headed off to a secret beach near the golden gate bridge. On the first date, we hiked the 400 miles down to this beach, 500 miles uphill back from this beach, then had the great idea to walk across the bridge. Once on the other side, having walked over 900 miles, we realized we had to walk all the way back from the San Francisco side. Young love didn’t think very wisely.
This time the bridge walk would be replaced by a proposal. I had hidden the ring in my shoe the whole time and we spent a few hours on the beach. I tried proposing three times before I built up the courage to finally do it. As Amanda stood there, I pretended to look for something, turned around and opened the ring box. I probably said some amazingly romantic things about how great she was, because she was speechless. Once it registered, and she could speak, she just kept repeating, “Are you serious?” As I knelt there like a fool, waiting for a response, I finally interrupted and asked for an answer. With tears of joy streaming down her face, she said something like, “I guess so.”
In four months she planned an incredible wedding for 115 of our closest family and friends… and we got married.
The last eight years have been the best eight years I could have ever hoped for. Life has at times, sucked. We haven’t ever been dealt the easy hand, and I wouldn’t wish all the trials we’ve endured together on anyone. But if I was going to have to go through an open heart surgery with a 5lb baby, a kid almost dying of pertussis and pneumonia, a kid having seizures that then miraculously go away, dogs exiting the family, facing being homeless, several heartbreaks with seemingly great jobs, living in the ghetto, crashed cars, no money, no sleep, no free time, and no processed foods, I wouldn’t choose anyone else on this planet besides you.
Thanks for a great eight, here’s to at least 54 more.
I love you so much!!