Laughing, then and now

Thirty years ago, February 12 was on a Saturday. I was a freshman at Arizona State University and working at JCPenney. The young man I had been dating for a year and a half invited me for a snow day up in Northern Arizona, sort of a combined early Valentine's/birthday celebration.

We always enjoyed road trips together, lots of talking and singing along with the driving. He found a spot that looked inviting for a walk in the snow, a nice wide clearing surrounded by aspen trees. We meandered across the field, then climbed a little hill. As we approached the top, he casually said, "I've got a little surprise for you." I chuckled, thinking that this guy had picked up a little pinecone or something, and that he would attach some romantic meaning to it. So we brushed the snow off of a fallen tree, I sat down, and he suddenly kneeled down, pulled a cute little velvet box out of his pocket, and popped the question statement, "I want you to be my wife."

We've laughed about that day so often over the past thirty years. We laughed when we revisited that spot with our youth group later that year and learned that the nice wide clearing was actually a frozen over lake. We laugh because I thought he was going to give me a pinecone. And we especially laughed about his non-proposal proposal.

After twenty-eight years of marriage, he still finds ways to make me laugh at the most unexpected times. It's one of those things I love about him.

Happy 30th anniversary of our engagement, Jeffrey! I love you so much.

(Stock photo source: Microsoft Clipart)