As of Friday September 14th I am officially engaged to be married. It was a very interesting experience, amazing, wonderful, and I am relieved I don't have to face the anxiety again. I put so much careful thought, consideration and planning into the event that I almost missed the beauty of it as it quickly passed through my life.
Growing up I never was much of a planner. I simply did what I wanted when I wanted to but as I have gotten older and particularly since I began college planning has slowly taken a larger hold on my life. See before college parents tend to due the majority of the planning (for males this tends to have been mostly pertaining to mealtimes.) but college begins and home is has become a place for visiting each second of the day has to be filled doing something. When I first obtained the "planning" responsibility I didn't handle it well. As a result of poor planning skills I was lonely and board often. But alas, as I have grown in my collegiate years so have my planning abilities (homework, work, class, meals, church, social time, time spend with my girlfriend, ect.). So much in fact that when I spend a large amount of time planning something and it doesn't go the way I envisioned chaos is soon to follow. Such a time was it on Friday.
I had everything planned to the last detail for how I was to propose to Ashley, then on Thursday while traveling to Alabama (my ideally planned proposal location) I heard the forecast, rain...all weekend long. Not wanting to lose my cool I did not panic (at least not immediately). I quickly began text messaging my brother-in-law who was located in the seat directly behind me in the van full of my family and Ashley. We were text messaging in order to covertly discuss the looming dangers of a weekend full of isolated showers. In the end we decided it best to hold out and hope the rain would break.
Friday, after sending Ashley away with my mother and sisters for the day I began putting my plan into action while keeping a weather eye on the chance of precipitation. While the news said there was a thirty percent chance and the dark gray clouds threatened rain the ground remained dry. It was looking good, everything was going to worked as planned. I had received to supreme confirmation in the fact that it would not rain by the premiere weather expert in Dunbar, Alabama (population 7) my own Grandfather. He was wrong. Twenty minutes after the said prediction the rain came in the in brute force (the official Alabama term that is used is gullywarsher). At this point I lost it. The plan hinged on the participation of the elements as the occasion would take place at a specific spot outside. After demanding the weatherman's resignation I took a deep breath collected my thoughts and began freaking out all over again. Even if the rain did stop the ground would now be to wet for the setup that was the center point of my plan would sink (quite literally). I had to go to plan "B" which I quickly realized I had forgotten to make...again with the freaking out.
It was my brother-in-law that came to the rescue. He took me aside and said to me the most prophetic words I had heard all day, "Joel, its going to be perfect." Kyle convinced told me that the planning I did was great but what made it perfect wasn't all of the little things I had planned but the event it self. That night I was asking someone to spend the rest of her life with me. Thanks to Kyle I regained my composure moved my setup 12 feet under the protection of a covered porch and enjoyed to perfect evening and the beauty that was the moment that I said, "Ashley, will you marry me?"
Oh by the way it had stopped raining.
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