Tuesday Time Machine: Proposal

February 17, 2009

Seventeen years ago, February 17th fell on a Monday. It was 1992. Presidents’ Day.

Glenn and I had been on a weekend ski trip with the youth group from Hill-n-Dale Christian Church. (We were both youth sponsors at the time). We had gotten back from the trip very late on Saturday night, and I remember being at church that Sunday and starting to feel like I was coming down with something. Sure enough, I woke up Monday morning sick, sick, sick.

My memory of that Monday is a blur of lying in bed, going to the bathroom to throw up, going back to bed, then back to the bathroom to throw up…. and so on and so on.

I called Glenn and asked him to come over and visit me that evening. And pleeeeease bring ginger ale. That’s all I wanted. Those two things. My boyfriend, and some ginger ale. And at the time… really the ginger ale was key.

You know how when you are sick in bed, the day drags? Everything that day seemed like forever. It was forever ago that I had felt well.. it was forever ago that we had gone skiing… it would be forever before I could eat anything again without being sick… and speaking of forever, where was Glenn?

I called to find out when he was coming. Soon, he said. Some time later I called again. I mean, how long does it take to drive a few miles and bring me some ginger ale? I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I was getting a bit peeved as the day went into evening and he still wasn’t there.

Then he showed up. My roommate let him in and he came back to my room where I lay pitifully in bed, dehydrated and worn out and perhaps a little bit miffed, but too tired to be anything but grateful that he was finally there. And, he didn’t bring ginger ale. He brought “Clearly Canadian,” remember that stuff? I LOVED that stuff… I actually would have preferred ginger ale at that moment, but he got points for bringing the more special beverage. I figure he was trying to make up for being so late.

Then he pulled out a booklet he had made. White letter-size typewriter paper, several sheets stapled together, adorned with his own drawings. The front cover said “A Love Story.” I laughed as I read through the pages of illustrations depicting how we met, how we ended up where we were, and how we had done nothing for that most recent Valentine’s Day because we had been on the ski trip with the youth group. [I thought he was really going overboard now, making up this cute booklet for me when I was sick, but really… I would have been fine if he had just come out to see me sooner, and brought me some ginger ale. In my sick stupor, I was thinking these things in the back of my head.]

The last page of the booklet said something like “and so, three days after Valentine’s Day, she got…” and it ended with the dot-dot-dot.   So I turned the page for the answer to what I got and there was…. nothing!  There was no page. No answer. Just the blank sheet at the end of the booklet. I turned the page and I think I said “ha, ha, ha.”  Very deliberately. As if to say, OK I’m not in the mood for silly jokes right now. I am sick! And I want ginger ale!

And then he pulled out a little box.

And he said “Laura…”

And he opened the box and pulled out a beautiful, heart-shaped, larger-than-I-expected diamond ring.

My hands flew up to my mouth, and I said “ohhhh!”    And then, I think I said “ohhhh!”  And then I think I said “Glennnnnnnn!” And then maybe I said “ohhhh Glennn!”

After I hugged him, and the ring was on my finger, he pointed out that I hadn’t actually said “yes” yet.  Maybe that was because I never actually heard him ask the question over all the “ohhhhh Glennnnns” I was saying.

For the record, I did say “yes.”




  1. That is just so very, very wonderful. And, your ring is beautiful.

    Clearly Canadian ROCKED the house — especially the blackberry flavor.

  2. what a great story!!!

  3. I love this story!!! Sorry you were sick, though. What a funny time to propose.

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