To my dearest friend Annie who inspired me and then to my beautiful sunflower who grew for me in a place left untended. A gentle reminder to us all.
I was challenged to try on some dialogue with a love topic. My own love story gave me the emotional impetus to write and weave the story. It was fun! I challenge you to try it.
It was Happy Thursday, my favorite day of the week. I jolted to the door in anticipation. There was a sign on the door, “Enter my queen.” What surprise awaited me today? It was Joe’s turn to do the date surprise, a ritual we had been doing for months, the first man to surprise me in return. The invitation got me nervous with wonder and excitement. I opened the door carefully, almost like a peek, as if opening the door full on would be so overwhelming that I would blow out of my skin. Nothing in the living room as I entered. Nothing in the kitchen on the counter. But looking down, there was a pathway which trailed into the master bedroom. There, on the bed, was the most beautiful full length, ornate, Shakesperian era dress. The note beside it instructed me to put it on and await his arrival. I get to be a QUEEN!, I thought. It was every girl’s dream. As a child, dress up was one of my favorite things to do. Note to self: Points to you Joe for hitting that dream spot on.
I slowly drew the dress on so as to savor every moment and not to tarnish this exquisite garment in any way. I awaited expectantly for my love’s arrival.
A sound of a truck door shutting. My King had arrived. When the front door opened, my ears perked to listen for clues to tonight’s events. Some rustling, and then soon, a shout toward me, “Good evening my Queen.” (that was me!) “You may come into the parlor,” he said. I tried to move with as much grace as I could find…a dress like this called for beauty and style.
I entered “the parlor” and there was my King, elaborately dressed in a rich costume to match perfectly with mine, complete with nice brown tights. Another note to self: My man was wearing tights. And oh, was he handsome as ever. Look, his eyes are twinkling!
“Are you ready?” he inquired.
“I think so,” I said with a pause and a small twitch of the jitters and eagerness at the same time.
“You’ll have to wear this blindfold.” He directed me.
What is he up to? I wondered.
Before I put on the blindfold, I looked up and saw Joe’s sister, Karren dressed in a chauffeur’s outfit.
“Hello! “ I said to Karren, and she smiled and waved back, “Hello.” She opened the back seat car door and helped me get all of me in the car without damaging the beautiful merchandise. Joe sat up front with Karren. The two of them chatted back and forth, and I just listened, my senses heightened because of the blindfold. Secretly I was trying to figure out where we were going by tracing the turns like a map in my mind and listening for more clues. I also paid attention to smells and bumps that might give me clues. Train sounds, railroad ties, kids playing, slowing down, a double BUMP! I KNEW where we were!
On our first surprise, I had taken Joe to my friend Rosemary’s house, a beautiful place that overlooked the Kathryn Albertson’s Park, complete with a creek that ran through the yard and a bridge that led to a stunning tea house. He was going to recreate our date! I held my excitement inside so as not to divulge that I at least knew part of the secret…I felt like a kid inside!
My car door opened. “We have arrived my Queen. May I take your hand and assist you out?” Joe asked. I answered, “You most certainly may.” Then, turning to Karren, “Thank you kind chauffeur for the ride.” “You are welcome,” Karren replied.
Joe walked me to the courtyard of my friend’s house and removed the blindfold. It was set up beautifully with the lights on and the rushing of the stream and the sounds of the bugs and birds. Perfect was all I could think of.
“Remember this?” the King asked.
“Yes, very well. Thank you.” I sheepishly replied.
“Tonight we are recreating the magic of our first surprise,” Joe said.
“I was hoping so,” still containing some of my delight.
Joe walked me across the bridge, and we began recreating our magical night, from the story of The Table Where the Rich People Sit, to listening to Yanni, to eating a nice dinner that he had prepared. We laughed together and cried sweet cries of joy together and we relished every moment.
It was time to go, but I didn’t want to go. I wanted to linger here.
Joe took my hand again and began walking me across the bridge. Halfway he suddenly dropped to one knee.
“What?” I thought. “What is happening? He’s on one knee! Is this really happening? Shouldn’t I have had a clue? No, because we dress up like this all the time. It’s what we do. It’s the marvel and fun in our relationship. Was I ready for this? Is HE ready for this? Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that he was saying that he wasn’t quite ready for next steps? What is going on? – All these thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, trying to make sense of this new moment, so very different from the previous moments and definitely different than other moments we experienced.
Joe started, “This place is one of my fondest memories that is why I recreated it. In walking back across this bridge, I want us to enter a new phase of our lives.” He began fumbling and reaching IN HIS TIGHTS! He struggled and scrambled, searching for something. Alas, he found the prize, a ring box!
“A ring box? This is definitely something different. Again, am I ready for this?
Is he ready for this?” –
Joe continued. “Marie, will you marry me? I will honor you and cherish you and it would make me very happy to have you by my side.” Pause. Long pause. I was sorting through my thoughts for the correct response, when my heart leaped and answered for me, “YES!!!! I will marry you.”
Joe grabbed me and swung me in circles. We were both filled with so much joy. We couldn’t contain it all. Sparks emanated from every fiber of our being. Our world was on fire. Nothing could stop the magic that was happening now. Absolutely nothing.
We walked inside to chat with Rosemary and to thank her once again for allowing us to use her sacred place. She was grinning ear to ear. Her response to our joyous faces, “Never did I think you would find someone who would match your quirkiness so well. Joe is perfect for you in every way.”
“I know!,” I exploded.
And then I turned to Caris, Joe’s daughter, who was also in the room. She was happy too and hugged us and congratulated us.
How could I possibly hold on to all of this memory? I want it to last a lifetime. I stood there in that spot consciously visualizing each and every detail and holding it dear to my heart. This day would go for eternity. I just know it.
YOUR TURN: FEEL FREE TO TRY ON SOME ROMANTIC DIALOGUE OF YOUR OWN AND POST IT HERE!
What qualifies a person to write another man’s story? For a life is not a life unless it is fully experienced and lived, and the writer can hardly capture the essence, let alone tell a full story.But the one who has done the living is a tired soul and his hands are feeble and in pain, and his heart has been in pieces and it’s difficult for him to sort out. And so it is that the writer must be the one to document whatever he/she can. For once a life goes, so do their libraries of stories.Two years ago, I felt the calling to get to know my dad when I walked in a Hallmark store and found a book called, “My Father’s Legacy.” In the book are “get to know you questions” about family history, not just dates, but celebrations and dreams and memories. There were so many questions I didn’t know the answer to for my family, even basic questions of family tree information. You see, I have always wanted to get to know dad, but his life and his feelings have always been vaulted with at least a hundred locks and a secret code. As I examined the book, I realized there was so much more I didn’t know, and the questions seemed simple enough. So I thought to myself, “Let’s give this a try.”I introduced the book to my dad and told him I’d like to document family history and some traditions for posterity. “Hey Dad, maybe I could ask you some questions?” Dad said, “I think that’d be all right.” When I would visit, I would ask a few questions and then I’d randomly call him and ask him some more. However, if the question became too personal, dad would quickly close up and withdraw and suddenly had to go “feed the critters” or eat, even if he just called me!The next step on our journey, my dad then began to accept that if the question was in the book, then it was legal, and I could ask it. It would make me giggle because he would look in the book to check if the question really was there. What this phase allowed me to do was gain his trust. He would feed me tidbits to see what I would do with the information. Because my intentions were honorable and how I handled his information was honorable, he began to trust me. From there, we could go a little deeper. There were times I would call, and he’d have to get through the roughness of his day, (Alzheimer’s has people living in fear and worry), and then I would get tidbits of information. Other days after finishing his stories he was just done and hung up. It was disappointing, but I knew it was part of the journey. Through patience and diligence and ears bleeding getting through the toughness of dealing with someone who is closed and stubborn and sadly going through mind games of his own, we began to forge a new relationship. He began to look forward to my calls and sometimes called me. The darkness was revealed less and less and the pep in his spirit was back.This week I got to visit him in Texas. I came prepared with a list of questions in various areas, because I never know what he will be open to answer. Needless to say, I didn’t get a lot of the prepared questions answered, but fortunate for me, I was open to the experience and whatever he had to offer me. Because of this, I was pleasantly surprised more than once.We went on an adventure to visit his hometown of Georgewest. He got lost, and I didn’t catch it because I had my head down taking notes…But the best part? GETTING LOST WAS A BEAUTIFUL THING. Because we were in the car seven lovely hours without phones or computers or people clamoring for his attention, we just got to laugh and be ourselves. Sometimes we didn’t talk at all. And we can’t forget the Dairy Queen! We both enjoyed our most favorite treat, icecream just like little kids!Daddy woke up the next day ready to take on the world. He even talked about feeling inspired to write. He said he had a dream that I didn’t just “come to Texas,” that I was “sent to Texas” to inspire him. I got a brilliant idea to create a feast for Father’s day. I used a sheet as a table cloth, because daddy didn’t one, and I picked flowers from his garden and put them in his favorite mason jars. It takes very little. And twenty minutes before people came over, daddy gave me the most real, the most honest that I have ever seen him. He was unafraid, and gave me the advice of a lifetime in regards to alcoholism…but I will save that for another time because it’s a most wonderful story all by itself.The trip wasn’t all peaches and roses, but it was time I treasured and got to know my daddy better. The focus was on being present and noticing. I will never know how much longer I have with him, so I embrace what I have. Smile your silly smile dad and enjoy.
It was really fun creating this design with Jakob Marketing. I gave them ideas and suggestions and colors and made a few changes, and Wahlah! It’s as if they could read my mind!
Super easy to work with. So if you’re looking to create your own logo, then this is a place to at least consult: http://www.jakobmp.com
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY LOGO? HAPPY HAPPY DANCE!!!!