The Story.


For real, though: I could never really imagine getting engaged. It’s a moment that is meant to be deeply romantic and magical and epic yet unscripted, there should be flash mobs and doves and a secret photographers, and  I couldn’t see how I could ever be a version of myself inside of that moment. But then, of course, if it is the person for you, that person crafts a moment that is perfect and perfectly unique to your love. And Morrison, my perfect love, killed it. He surprised me over breakfast, my hair in a towel as I whined about overdraft protection fees.  He nudged a simple and profound question into one of our most standard moments. And I want to make sure that I get down all of the beautiful little nuances and specifics of the moment. I keep going over  it in my head to make sure I remember it, because it was simultaneously huge and magnificent and surreal and at the same time wonderfully normal. I will set the scene, transcribe, so that I make sure I really never forget, and also that you know, when people ask how it happened, I can just send them a link to this. THE FUTURE!

The scene: I woke up kind of mad because I dreamt that He went to China without telling me. My first words were:

Me: You went to China without telling me. You didn’t even say bye.

Mo: …Huh.

Me: Well, I thought you did. But then it turns out you hadn’t left yet. I just thought that you had.

Mo: Right.

Me: But if you’re going to go to China, just tell me first and say bye.

Mo: Right. Of course.

I then went to yoga, woke up, remembered it was Thanksgiving Day and HOLY EVERYTHING I JUST LOVE THANKSGIVING SO MUCH, and returned sweaty and bouncing around like an idiot because it was, you know. Thanksgiving Day. Mo was making breakfast, playing some familiar tunes, which he reminded me was my playlist that he made for me months back when we first started courting. I suspected nothing, as you know, it’s a solid playlist, especially a morning one. I hopped in the shower, got dressed, marched into the kitchen to check in and make sure a giant denim onesie was an appropriate family Thanksgiving ensemble, received an affirmation. Mo plated our scrambled eggs, and we sat down. I shoveled eggs into my face and checked my account balances, as Mo started to say some simple beautiful things that I don’t want to put here because  I kind of just want to keep them in my heart place. I sort of just nodded and uh-huhed, as it is not strange for him to say sweet things.


AND THEN SUDDENLY IT WAS IN FRONT OF ME, And there was this most beautiful and special item:

A ring that has been in his family for four generations. This beauty is 133 YEARS OLD, exactly 100 years older than me. It was passed down to his sister, Katherine. A few months back, she suggested that Morrison give it to me, and then his Dad secretly delivered it when he was here a few months back AND THEN I DROWNED IN MY OWN TEARS.

After bouncing up an down like more of an idiot a few more times, and shouting IS THIS REAL? a few times,  I remembered that I was supposed to say, you know, Yes, so I said it 900 times. We then bounced around TOGETHER like idiots, because that’s a thing we like to do, hence the marriage. After a beautiful roll out of the good news to close family and friends, and the happiest Thanksgiving Day ever complete with new baby Luke and fam and THREE KINDS OF STUFFING, we went wide with the news:

AND GOT A THOUSAND LIKES (?!) BUT YOU KNOW WHOSE COUNTING WHO CARES WE DON’T. Feeling so lucky and joyful I want to Sound of Music spin on a hill. Can’t wait to get hitched. My favorite part is how normal it feels. Normal, joyful, and just right, as if it aways was, and always will be.

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