|
| |
|
A PROPOSAL STANDS
THE TEST OF TIME
|
|
If you're reading this, it means my 29 year old son proposed to
his longtime girlfriend last weekend. If you're not reading this, it means
he chickened out.
My deadline for a Tuesday column is Friday at noon, so I'm
writing this without knowing if he actually went through with it. He seemed
pretty determined though, so I decided to take the chance of writing
something that might never be published. If he gags, I'll just disown him.
His whole family has been urging him to take the plunge for
many months now. He's been with his girlfriend for five years and they've
been living together for two years. All of us love her dearly, and she's
seemed a part of the family for a long time. All that's missing is a
proposal.
He just hasn't been in a big hurry. He took one step in July,
when he followed that wonderful, old-fashioned tradition of asking her
father for permission to marry his daughter. The two of them were on the
beach in Tahoe, and his girlfriend and her mother had left to use the
restroom.
"That's when you asked him!" I cried when he told me
the story many months ago. "Couldn't you have found a more appropriate
time?"
"Yeah, it was kind of awkward," he said with a grin.
"There wasn't a lot of time."
"What did he say?"
"He said he was okay with it, as long as I helped him
clean his garage. I think he was kidding."
It's always awkward, but it's a great tradition. I particularly
liked tormenting my future son-in-law when he nervously asked permission to
marry my daughter. It's what fathers do.
With the father's permission in hand, everyone assumed the
actual proposal was weeks away. As the months passed, I decided to interfere
just a bit.
"You know there's a Statute of Limitations on a father's
approval," I mentioned one day. "The clock is ticking. You can't
drag it out forever."
"I know, I know," he replied. "It's coming.
Believe me, I don't want to have to ask him again. I've just got to get the
ring stuff settled first."
To his romantic credit, he had a choice of buying a house or a
ring, and he chose the ring. I'm just kidding, but engagement rings are not
cheap these days. Naturally, he had it designed and made, which took
another month.
The whole saga made me think of my marriage. I was 21, my wife
was 19, and she was Canadian and couldn't work in the United States. We were
living together in San Francisco, and while traveling to see her family in
Montreal I suggested we get married so she could get a green card.
She said okay, so I bought her a $50 gold band and we were
married three weeks later. Now that's efficiency.
My son's saga was a little more traditional, and I was enjoying
watching him deal with it. The ring finally arrived a couple of weeks ago,
and with his future father-in-law's approval becoming a distant memory, and
ring in hand, he decided the time was right.
"I'm thinking about doing it on Halloween night," he
told me when I heard from his younger brother that it was happening very
soon. Naturally, I intrusively wanted to weigh in, even though it was none
of my business.
"That's perfect," I replied. "Are you going to
wear a Freddy Krueger mask (from the movie "A Nightmare on Elm
Street"), or maybe dress up as the Grim Reaper? That would go over
well."
"Ha ha. No, I've got some ideas which I have no intention
of sharing with you. All I know is I'm not doing it in a public place."
I decided to give him some fatherly advice. I told him that a
lot of guys don't put a lot of emphasis on the romantic aspects of a
proposal (see my experience 44 years ago), but most girls will remember and
talk about it for a lifetime.
"I'm not an idiot," he replied. "I'm not going
to ask her to marry me and then sit down on the couch and watch television.
I've got a plan."
Fatherly advice was apparently not necessary, or welcome. I
decided to do what I do best---shut up. He was a bright boy---he'd pick an
appropriate costume.
The day before Halloween, he texted me to let me know he was
now planning on proposing to his beautiful and wonderful girlfriend on
Friday night instead. Wisely, I didn't ask any details.
Post Deadline Editor's Note: She said yes.
|
|
|
