On Saturday afternoon, Honey and I left the kids with my brother Lance (Who lives with us) (He is eighteen and does not eat a single fruit or vegetable…any bets on how long he will live?).

We put Miss Emily down for her nap and asked Uncle Lance if he would take a photo of us.

We then got into the truck and squealed and shouted and hollered about the FREEDOM drove away.

The entire outing was wonderful. Honey got all of the tools/parts he needed, and I browsed photography books in Chapters. I also bought Miss Emily some Spring clothes (Yes, I (obviously) know that spring has not arrived but hope, um, springs eternal).

We zoomed about and managed to cross everything off of the (massive) list that we had compiled. We then ate an amazing dinner and reveled in each others’ company. It was absolutely glorious.

We headed back to our small town, and realized that it was nowhere near our kids’ bedtime. Being the stellar parents we are, we thought of something else to do in order to make sure we got home after the kids were in bed.

Bedtime sucks, yo. Don’t judge me.

We decided to drive down to the lake. We opted against the beach where we often go with the kids, and instead went around the corner to a smaller, less kid-friendly beach. We never go to this beach as it is populated in the summer by scantily-clad teenagers, with nary a playground to be seen.

We pulled into the parking lot and giggled at the fact that we felt like (fully-clothed) teenagers ourselves, parking and all. The evening got even better as we started to reminisce.

The beach that we pulled into has a few different docks. One such dock was the one on which we became engaged to be married over eight years ago.

Let me backtrack a little.

Matthew and I met in Vancouver and had that fateful first date on November 28, 1999. Yes, in the nineties. We had a whirlwind of dates within the first two weeks. We would stay up until all hours of the night talking about anything and everything. Does anyone remember that high that occurs when you are first dating? You can stay up all night, and get little to no sleep, and still function like you are fully rested?

Yeah. Me neither.

After only a few short weeks of dating, Matthew and I knew that we would marry. He went home for Christmas (to the town where we now live), and I drove up on Boxing Day to meet the family.

We told them of our plans to marry in May, and they were excited. They were also practical. His Dad pointed out that if we wanted to be married in five months, we should get on the whole “engagement” thing.

We went ring shopping the very next day.

I wanted a simple solitaire, in a classic setting, with no visible flaws. THEY WERE NOT EASY TO FIND. In an obscure little jewelry shop, we finally found “The One”.

Matthew bought it and put it away. I knew that he had it, but he still wanted a “moment” to ask “the question”. Despite my pestering, he managed to hold out for a few days. Until the night of December 30, 1999, to be exact.

After an evening at nice restaurant up at the local ski hill we found ourselves down at the lake. He feigned car trouble and while we waited for “help”, we walked out onto the dock.

I do not have photos from that fateful night, but I do have a few that I took on Saturday.

On that night, we were standing to the right of that bench.

The pilings. They kept us from drowning.

The view to the right of the dock.

Panning right a little bit more…

On that night it was late and it was COLD. There was a North wind blowing. He pulled me in for a big bear hug and I could feel his heart beating through all of the layers of clothes. I knew that this was The Moment. He was going to ask me to be his wife.

He got down on one knee, and asked me if I would be willing to spend the rest of eternity with him.

I did not hesitate. I knew how blessed I was to have this amazing man ask me to be his and his alone. He slid the ring on my finger and we raced back to tell the good news to his family as well as to mine.

The next day as we drove back to Vancouver, the sparkle of my ring was hard to ignore. It twinkled and it sparkled (It still does). We spoke of dreams we had for the future. Of careers, of children, of building not a house but a home together.

If I had been given a glimpse of the life that I have today? With this amazing man, these three beautiful children, this wonderful circle of friends and community? I would have scoffed. Nobody could have it that good.

But I do.

I really, truly do.

(PS - Our eighth anniversary is in May.  BRACE YOURSELVES FOR THE SAPPINESS.  You may want to stock up on Gravol to help combat the nausea.)

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