This quote sits in our engagement book; it's a Burundi proverb. The remainder of the book is filled with proverbs that describe love in simple, beautiful terms.
The pictures in the book were taken the day Jordan proposed. I wasn't planning on having
my engagement to wear in the pictures, so I had brought along my mother's to fill in the empty space on my left hand.
Earlier that morning, we went on a double date with Jordan's sister and a friend: neighborhood golf at a nature trail/field area by a nearby church.
The night before, we had arrived in Washington to spend a week with his family. The people I had only met once; the ones who had last seen me sweaty and out of breath after running the entire length (and then some) of Magic Kingdom. And the soon-to-be sister that I had only ever texted.
After a few, quick hello's and a nice little chat, Jordan disappeared upstairs, leaving me with his mom. Looking back, I have no idea why I was so terrified (she is really very funny and sweet) but I was. And I was a little upset that he left me alone for 45 minutes.
The next morning as we started our date, he was still acting a bit odd. Barely talking, infrequent smiles... I was sure getting engaged wasn't supposed to be like this.
I tried to get it out of him. I'm sure I asked him what was wrong about twenty times. And each time he replied with a simple
nothing.
By the time we got to the big open field, I was a little bugged. Coming to the next hole, I swung my golf club and smacked myself hard in the ankle. We stopped for a second, and then kept limping along until Jordan's sister suggested we split up so that we could finish sooner.
That makes no sense whatsoever, I thought.
How are we supposed to keep an accurate score if we are golfing different holes? But, we split up. She and her date headed toward the church and my quiet,
almost fiance and I headed into a mini forest.
As we walked into a small clearing, I saw a daisy sitting in a water bottle. I pointed it out to Jordan, thinking that people needed to be better about cleaning up after themselves, not realizing that he had been acting odd was because he was about to propose.
I walked over to check it out (I can't resist daisies) and saw a note attached, which Jordan urged me to read.
The note was the second of nine memories tied to daisies (in my haste, I missed the first one). The water bottle vases led to one final bouquet with a note that read,
September 4, 2009.
The tears started the minute I read the date, and when I turned around, Jordan was on one knee. He got a hug and a kiss right there, but the yes didn't come until twenty minutes later, after he had bought me ice cream.
I don't know if I'll ever live that one down.
As of tomorrow, this little print will be up in the shop.
