Is it a tad cheesy that we like to relive the memory of that day each year? Yes, probably. But for us, it was that date that changed the course of our lives forever. (Funny to think that an evening of Cajun food and a movie could be so life-altering, huh?)
He picked me up five minutes early at my apartment that night and I remember (quite literally) feeling weak in the knees, like I needed to sit down and catch my breath. He was the most handsome man I'd ever seen and he was standing in my living room.
The conversation that night came easily. The laughter, abundantly.
At one point during the movie later, he slid his hand across the arm of the seat and grasped mine.
And for me, it was game over.
I wanted to hold hands with this man every day for the rest of my life.
And, thanks to the good Lord, I can.
I sat on the couch writing this post last night, trying to sum up just what July 30 means to me.
I looked at the bouquet, which S had brought home for me yesterday afternoon, sitting atop the kitchen counter. I looked at the various framed photos of the times we've shared, all lining our mantle...the same mantle that served as the backdrop for the night he proposed to me.
I looked down at the ring he gave me; a beautiful, emerald-cut stunner with baguettes, just like the style of the Harry Winston I'd always coveted, but never told him about. The ring he designed himself, the stone selected by hand. Just four months after we'd met without my having a clue.
And my eyes drifted down to the bump on my stomach, serving as a "desk" for my laptop. The sweet, ever-growing bump holding our precious baby girl, who we'll meet in just a few weeks. Our daughter. Half him, half me; all miracle.
My goodness. So much life has happened in just three July 30ths.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. - 1 Corinthians 13:13