I proposed during the week of Thanksgiving nine years ago. Early on in our relationship, Shannon and I had imagined what it would be like to sit on a couch on a beach while waves crashed against the sand. We envisioned the sunset giving way to stars that sparkled like diamonds and the moon’s reflection that danced upon the water. From that moment I knew that if I ever proposed, I would want to recreate that dream.
As I traveled to Destin, Florida that Thanksgiving week, I faced a few obstacles. How would I find time to ask her dad’s permission amidst a house full of family? How long would I have to wait for a sunny day amidst a forecast of rain? And most importantly, how would I sneak a couch from the living room of a beach house out onto the sand?
Things fell into place as the week progressed. I talked to her dad on a manufactured trip to Walmart for nail clippers. The rain dissipated by Tuesday. The couch proved slightly more difficult. I had exiled Shannon to her room with instructions for her to prepare for a date. I then lassoed some family members to help me move the couch. This is when the real fun began. As four of us elevated the couch and headed toward the door, we heard a knock. Someone looked through the door’s peephole. The rental home’s maintenance man had come to fix the pool. Like thieves who hear sirens, we scrambled to throw the couch back into place. In the few minutes he was there, he never noticed our suspicious smiles as we stood around our loot.
We had roughly seventeen family members staying in the house, and about half of them were down on the beach playing volleyball as we nestled the couch down. “This better be a proposal because this is setting the bar a little too high for a date,” they thought.
With the beach finally clear, I invited Shannon down. We sat, talked, and enjoyed our dream. I even managed to ward off Shannon’s uncle who came to ask three times if I wanted to join the guys for oysters and beer. As the sky turned orange and red, I pulled out a journal. In it I had written of my love for Shannon, and I had also cut a small square into the center of the last 150 pages. After I read my words to her, I turned the page where the ring sat waiting. She said yes.
As I look back, I realize that even the proposal contributes to starting the marriage right. One of my favorite memories from that night was watching Shannon call her friends. She relived the afternoon over and over with the same glee and enthusiasm. Her actions told me I did well. Now each time we return to Destin, it is like walking sacred ground.
With the holidays upon us, proposal is likely on the minds of many. If you are a female with hopes that your man will pop the question, this article may not have moved you along any further. In fact, it may have intensified your longing. While I would not recommend it, I suppose you could coincidentally have your mother’s cousin’s friend email this link to your soon-to-be fiancee with the subject, “Hint, hint.” Again, I would not recommend it. If you’re a guy, though, here are three goals to keep in mind when planning your proposal:
- Make it personal. Shannon loves the beach and loves her family. I did well to include both. Maybe your girlfriend really is a Jets fan like you and therefore the jumbotron “Will you marry me?” works. Think it through though. The story’s legendary status depends on how uniquely you can personalize the proposal.
- Make time stop. One of my main regrets is that I did not have an easy way to video record the moment. We have one picture from a beach walker that we will be able to show our kids. If possible, find a way to freeze the moment in time.
- Make it memorable. Give her a story to tell. I know everyone has different ideas of memorable, but I never understand the couples that shop for a ring together because they have already planned the wedding. Guys, your creativity is a reflection of your heart for her. Use it to plan the where, when, and how of the moment. Did I mention this yet? Give her a story to tell. It will start your marriage well.
