He wanted me to have a good story.

** disclaimer ** some of you already know this story.

Back in 2009 we went on our annual summer vacation together, the location that trip was Assateague Island, in Maryland.  It’s a national park full of wild horses, so very much right up my alley.  Little did I know what was in store for me.

So we get to Maryland on Monday August 30th and set up camp, that night we went to bed kinda early cause we were exhausted from the drive. Tuesday we went into “town” to get some supplies (beer) and then decided we would just relax around the park, meet the neighbours (horses), go for a walk, have dinner and then decided to go down to the beach when it got dark and have a fire, something they allow if you are below the high tide line.

I made us a gourmet camping meal, beans & wieners, I know right, super fancy.  After cleaning up we gathered our camp chairs, some firewood and headed down to the beach.  No one mentions in the brochures that there are 50 klm winds 24/7 in Maryland.  Important information should you decide to go there.  So there I am on a DARK beach digging a hole for the fire cause it’s windier than anything, and Scott goes back to the camp site to get a cooler and his guitar, come’s back and can’t light the fire cause of the wind.

He runs back to the campsite to get the Coleman stove lol, and I am thinking, maybe we should just forget the fire, but he never gives in. So finally the fire is lit, I’m all cozy in a chair and drinking a beer, and he pulls out his guitar. This is when he starts singing “I Want To Grow Old With You” (from the Wedding Singer, but he’s changed some of the lyrics to fit our relationship) I’m laughing my butt off cause he mentions the time I got so drunk at a wedding I spent the night hugging the toilet. The song finishes and he asks me to reach into his guitar case and hand him a pick. Which I managed to find even though he thought he took everything out when he put the ring box in there.

Scott: Look harder babe

Me: what, that’s a pick, I dunno what the difference in them is.

Scott: Just look harder

Me: the only thing in here is this box (which I then passed to him, still not cluing in)

Then all of a sudden, he’s down on one knee in front of me asking him to marry him

Me: Really?? (LOL….this should indicate how much I wasn’t expecting this) and then it finally registered and I said “OF COURSE!!!!”

And then I complained that it was too dark and I couldn’t see the ring. LOL

The diamond in my ring is from Scott’s grandmother’s ring on his mom’s side.  I absolutely love that it has a story, and even though I did not get the chance to meet her, I am honoured to be wearing a part of his family history.  There were more, smaller, diamonds in her ring as well, and our jeweller was able to include those in the making of my wedding band.


* I should add in that I was so excited that we were engaged that I needed to tell someone, but because it was night, and we were in the states, I didn’t want to make a phone call just yet.  Therefore, the first person I “told” was some lady waiting for her kid at the public washroom in the park.  My parent’s already knew, Scott had asked their permission first.


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