My Husband Proposed, Suddenly, with No Romance, No Ring
But I married him anyway
This week, a young man, whom I’ve yet to meet, asked our granddaughter to marry him. It got me thinking about the moment my husband asked for my hand.
Choosing the right words
My husband did not ask me to marry him. His proposal was more direct than a question. So if you like warm and fuzzy proposal stories, fair warning, this is not one.
The only conventional part — it was a surprise. I had no clue what was coming or even that he’d thought about marriage. He was divorced — twice. Both wives left him for different reasons, but both divorces rattled him.
I never expected to be wife number three. We never discussed marriage.
I didn’t go into our relationship thinking or secretly hoping we would marry. Being a child of the 1960s and from a broken home, I didn’t need a “marriage license” to confirm our partnership, our love. I knew I could be nowhere else but with him. And he had my trust from day one.
We moved in together and, for two and a half years, lived happily, supporting each other’s dreams, loving, and splitting household chores. I did the laundry; he cleaned the bathroom. I dusted; he vacuumed. I cooked; he did dishes.
The proposal scenario
He proposed on my mother’s birthday. We had little discretionary money. So as a birthday present for her, I spent the day with my mother in Sarasota.
Spending time was far more valuable to her than a wrapped gift, no matter its contents. She had enrolled in college in her late 50s. I attended classes with her that day so she could “show me off.” We had lunch. I drove home with her; we chatted, hugged, and I left.
It was another hour’s drive to my home. There were no cell phones then, so I didn’t call from the road. When I arrived, it was dark.
My soon-to-be husband expected my return hours earlier. When I came through the front door, he was sitting at his drafting board.
To take a knee or not
I descended the three steps into our great room (a term used for a joint living room, dining area, study, and kitchen, all in one room) and went to him. He did not stand to greet me with a hug, as was our custom. He stayed seated and said,
“I was worried about you driving on the roads this late”
I assured him I was fine, and the day had gone well.
“But I was concerned. I didn’t like you not being here. I missed you. It got me thinking. I think it’s time we get married.”
Caught totally off guard, I’m not proud of my response looking back.
“Why?” was my spontaneous reaction.
He did not take offense. We both think logically. He understood my need to know his reasoning. He answered,
“Because it’s time. We’ve been together for more than two years. It’s time we get married.”
He did not kneel. He did not present a ring (he knew I didn’t wear jewelry). But he did sit in front of me, holding my hands, looking up. His hazel eyes met my brown-eyed gaze. I said, “Okay.”
Three weeks later, we were married.
