A Decent Proposal
My daughter said yes.
It had never occurred to me that she would say no, but still, when I finally got the call — hardly a surprise, since my future son-in-law-to-be had already given me the heads up — I breathed a sigh of relief. Odd.
She’s beautiful, the doctor said when she finally arrived, a solid three nursing shifts after I had waddled in. It had never occurred to me that she wouldn’t be, but still, I breathed a sigh of relief. It’s a girl? I asked. I had known that for months, had even told the doctor her name. Odd.
I can’t sleep. My own Facebook post announcing the engagement has been pushed to the bottom of the news feed, overridden by countless others. I scroll through the well-wishes, all accompanied by photographs of special moments with friends, from childhood through college. I take my own trip down memory lane, a montage of her and me playing out in my brain. She’s beautiful. It’s a girl? Sigh. My girl. My girl said yes. His girl, now. Odd.
There’s so much I want to tell them. About how important this is, about how wonderful it should be, about how I truly believe that it can work, even though I was not particularly good at it. I worry about a lot of things, but, oddly, I don’t really worry about them, as in “the them.” Though their minds may be elsewhere when they actually speak those vows, they will mean every word. Marriage, like everything in life worth having, is hard, but they will make it look effortless. It’s how they are. It’s how “the they” is.
Word has it they were both too excited to eat last night. That’s how I know not to worry. My own marriage may have given me indigestion at times, but I was never too excited to eat.
As it turns out, like me, she couldn’t sleep. She texted me to tell me that. She sent me a close-up of her newly bedazzled finger. I told her how excited I am for them. “The them.” I didn’t mention how excited I was to hear from her, how reassuring it is to know there will always be “an us” too.