“But do you LOVE her…?”

The Beautiful Bride and I went to a wedding Saturday night. It was a “Do I really have to wear a suit and tie?” kind of wedding.

The Beautiful Bride was well…beautiful and I was well…me.

It was a great wedding, and a fun reception, and then we almost got smashed into by a drunk driver on the way home, but that’s a whole nother story.

As I watched the two “kids” get married I couldn’t help but think back to the day, almost 19 years ago The Beautiful Bride, and I said “Yup, we do.”

See I was not always as smooth as I am now and, in hindsight, did not handle various parts of the courtship and engagement as well as I would have. (see also the Cereal Bowl fiasco,)

So let’s step back into  the way-back machine and go back to the day I asked  The Beautiful Bride’s father for her hand in marriage.

Frankly, Papa (as he was called by the grandkids) was not too sure about me. I was rocking a mullet and liked the wrong baseball teams and to be honest, The Beautiful Bride and I had had a bit of a whirlwind romance. (As in we met in April, engaged in August, married in November) But nonetheless, I knew, even after three short months, that The Beautiful Bride was the girl for me, so I called Mr. Edwards to invite him to lunch to pop “The Can I Marry Your Super Awesome Daughter” question. I was pretty sure he knew what was coming when I made the appointment, but to his credit he said yes anyway.

On the date we were to have lunch I got to restaurant early, and waited. And waited. Then my phone rang and it was his secretary. “Mr. Edwards is running behind, and will be a few minutes late.”

So this is how it will be, I thought.

He’s playing mind games.

He’s icing me, trying to get me off my super-cool rhythm. Thinking maybe if he threw off my timing, I would lose my nerve and not ask the question.

Not a chance.

I had my mullet in fine form, my stone washed jeans were totally awesome, and I had the sun-roof of my beat down Mazda propped wide open listening to Journey and The Doobie Brothers the whole way to the restaurant.  I was not to be stopped.

And so I waited.

And waited.

And drank about a dozen glasses of tea.

Finally, after what seemed a week and a half, Mr. Edwards arrived and graciously apologized for being late. I was as nervous could be and I was not going to let him play any more mind games with me. So the very second he sat down I blurted out the following in one lightning fast breath:

“Mr. Edwards, The Beautiful Bride and I have spent a lot of time together over the past few months. We like the same things, we believe the same things and I want to spend my life with her.  I have thought about it and prayed about it, and I would like to ask you for her hand in marriage. Can I marry your daughter?

Pause.

I lean in a bit waiting for the glorious response.

“Well Jeff…”

Still waiting…and now I have a secondary issue because of the dozen glasses of tea I heard nervously gulped down earlier. I needed his answer and I needed it NOW.

The nervousness and bladder issue caused me to start sweating profusely. The mullet was in jeopardy.

He gave me a kind, yet puzzled look.

“I hear all you’re saying and that’s all real good. Now I have just one question, because all you said their earlier is real important, but do you LOVE her…?”

Pause.

What “Do I love her?”

Is this just another one of those psychological games, was he just trying to throw me off again?

Surely I said…

Then it hit me.

In all my anxiety to ask the question and because of all the squirming in the seat to avoid other issues, HAD I FORGOTTEN TO SAY I LOVED HER!

Life went into slow motion as I replayed in my mind all that I had just said.

Let’s see…I said, “Mr. Edwards, The Beautiful Bride and I have spent a lot of time together over the past few months. We like the same things, we believe the same things and I want to spend my life with her.  I have thought about it and prayed about it, and I would like to ask you for her hand in marriage. Can I marry your daughter?

He was right. I did not say that I loved her. I had just pulled the Bill Buckner of “Asking for a Blessing.”

Gulp.

Wipe my now rainforest wet brow.

Squirm in the seat. Again.

“Uh yes, Mr. Edwards. I love her. With all my heart I love her and I know she loves me to.

“Then of course, we’d be glad and honored to have you marry her.”

Whew……

“That’s great, just great. Really, just so great….Now, I need to the restroom, I’ll be right back….”

And so the first thing I did after getting my future father-in-law’s blessing was to run to the restroom.

See, I told you I wasn’t nearly as smooth as I am now…

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Posted on October 10, 2011, in Dad stuff, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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