Some years ago, I had just finished a summary of my girlfriend’s - or maybe she was a fiancé by then? - sterling academic record and what that meant for her career. My dad’s best friend smiled, sighed, shook his head and unleashed a question I’m pleased my now wife has never thought to ponder.
“WHAT COULD SHE POSSIBLY SEE IN YOU,” he said. “I MEAN REALLY. WHAT IS SHE DOING WITH YOU?” an incredulous cackle cemented his point.
I had no answer then. I have no answer now. I won’t have an answer next year either. But then again, I don’t need one. She ended up marrying me anyway.
Before I proposed, I do remember asking her parents if I could take them to dinner. They declined and instead invited me to have dinner with them. Which led to this smooth transition post dessert as a natural lull in the conversation arrived. My future mother-in-law arms stretched out leaning forward a broad smile plastered on her face knowing the question to come.
“So, I uh, obviously didn’t ask to have dinner just to have a meal,” I mumbled
A soft, sarcastic surprise my greeting as both sets of eyes crinkle in amusement, waiting for me to just say it already
“I’m going to propose and I’d like your blessing,” I said.
Her dad liked that I said “blessing” I think he found that kind of funny. But “permission” was (1) dishonest, I was gonna ask regardless (2) not how things work in this century because their daughter was and still is an adult female capable of making her own decisions about her life no matter what SCOTUS thinks.
“Noah, you’ve been part of this family for kind of a long time now,” my future FIL said. “I’m just surprised it took you this long.”
Fair point.
My future MIL went right for the family heirloom rings. Back from upstairs so quick it was pretty obvious she had them out and ready given the pace of her retrieval.
I looked them over as if I had a clue how to evaluate jewelry. I picked the bigger one. No conflict for me in picking the stone. 3 months salary wasn’t going to get me very far and this was a better deal.
Once I had secured an insurance rider for the ring I could keep it in my lockbox at home. Walking into my apartment I showed it to my bff who took one look at it and shouted:
“YES. YES. A THOUSAND TIMES YES.”
I worked out a multi pronged plan for the Valentines Day weekend. I’d be waiting on bended knee when she got home from her rotation in Arizona. So her roomate and future bridesmaid let me her eyes widening when I showed her the box. She immediately lit a bunch of candles and then left for her fiancé’s apartment.
My now wife told me I could propose with a twist tie. So that’s what I did. The actual ring in my coat pocket the twist tie in the box. Turned out the ring was a size or so too big so she used the twist tie keep it in place.
I had flowers with a card inscribed with the optimistic "you said yes” waiting at the restaurant table where I had made dinner reservations. Afterwards, her good friend and future bridesmaid hosted a little celebratory midnight dessert at their house. The next day I had scheduled a dress fitting just for fun. No sales tax on clothes in Minnesota! She wasn’t picking anything without her mom. But she had watched a lot of Say Yes to the Dress with my bff.
Her gift to me that weekend was a framed photo of Minnesota Viking Brett Favre right after he had thrown that brutal hilarious interception in the NFC Championship Game versus the New Orleans Saints.
I called my bff’s brother, to ask him to be a groomsman. We had watched that game together.
“She got me a framed photo of Favre after the interception in the NFC Championship game,” I gushed.
“That’s cool man,” he replied. “Which NFC Championship game?”
Fair point. Pay your restitution Brett.
I remember a married cousin reminding me not to sweat the details of the wedding. Basically all anyone would really remember is if they were uncomfortable (hot, hungry, thirsty, noisy), but not like, the color scheme or centerpieces. Come to think of it, we actually did have centerpieces at the wedding though.
I think.
Registering for wedding gifts was interesting, especially that whole section of decorative dinner party platters and other things you’ll only use if you live in West Egg in the 1920s. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of serving dishes. Glad we loaded up on those. I still regret not frequenting more bakeries for free cake samples.
That run in to the wedding was a lot, as we prepared to leave the midwest, attend someone else’s wedding, and some family graduations.
That didn’t leave a ton of time to contemplate marriage and the concomitant obligations. Something I didn’t really do until the Oscars a few years later. Because while accepting the Academy Award for Argo (really?) for Best Picture in 2013, Ben Affleck described marriage as work.
It is work but it's the best kind of work and there's no one I'd rather work with
I had been married less than two years at that point and didn’t understand what he meant by that. Marriage being hard work and all.
I don’t judge anybody else’s marriage or relationship. Nothing good comes from that. Nor frankly am I interested.
Marriage comes with certain rights, tax implications, and an expensive party. But I don’t think it needs to be elevated to a life altering commitment. Like say drafting a quarterback in round 1 when you already have a hall of famer at the position.
It’s the natural progression of a healthy relationship. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Well you know the rest.
None of this should be taken as a dismissal of marriage as unimportant. Quite the opposite. This is also is not a history post on who was traditionally allowed to marry and why. Or the imminent threat to that right for certain groups of Americans.
My personal statement is that marriage really isn’t work. Like anything else, if you’re there for the right reasons it’s pretty straightforward.
A few weeks after my wedding my bff’s dad reached out over text. He wrote something like this:
Noah, I’ve been married twice. The first time I woke up and everything changed. The second time nothing had changed. How was this for you?
I took a few minutes to think about it to give a reply such a weighty question deserved.
About the same. More throw pillows than I was expecting.
Still too many pillows but no nothing has really changed. And that’s a good thing.
Better throw pillows than Gnomes.
Sweet! And happy 13th you both! Keep up the great work - even if it doesn’t seem like work to you. May it ever be thus.