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Molly: The Proposal

Molly: The Proposal

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The journey from a handshake to (nearly) gone with the wind.

By Molly O’Brien

So let’s talk about how this whole awesome relationship happened.

It’s the fall of 2013, and I’m at my friend Mary’s house venting (okay, complaining) about guys and dating. Long story short, Mary says, “Oh my gosh: Glen!” Among other shared interests, Glen loves the Seahawks. Could it be? Have I found the only other Seahawks fan living in Rhode Island? I’m from just outside of Seattle, and I grew up watching and rooting for the Seahawks. It was probably meant to be.

Now came the really important part: pictures. Yes, indeed, he was so very handsome.

About two weeks later, Mary and her husband, Blake, have a get together at their house and that’s where we plant to meet. I don’t think I knew a single person there. I was so nervous for so many reasons. Glen and I had talked online and texted over that week, but what would we talk about in person? The wait was agonizing.

Finally he walks through the door, and it’s like there’s music playing around him. He’s gorgeous. His hair is perfectly styled and his teeth sparkle — I swear I saw that little twinkle like you see in cartoons. (Sidenote: We really do compete to see who has whiter teeth. It’s a close call.) He takes his sweet time making his rounds through the room (I am dying!), and finally he comes to me. He goes to give me a handshake and introduce himself. Remember, we have been talking for a week, so I say something along the lines of, “What, I don’t even get a hug?”

Blunt, I know, but really? A handshake? Come on.

Within two weeks we both knew this was something special. This was it. Less than a month later we were on a date in Newport and I, like always, couldn’t hold my tongue. I say, “You want to marry me don’t you?”

He says, “Yeah, kinda.”

Nice.

Now to the fun part…Glen told me to block off a particular weekend in March. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I have to be ready. Do I need a jacket? Do I need boots? Tennis shoes? Heels? A sweater? Are we going out into the wintery abyss? Are we going to a beautiful mountain lodge? Are we going to a fancy dancy dinner? My goodness, help a sister out! If you know me, you know I have to prepare for everything to the fullest extent, as in do we need a life preserver or a fire extinguisher? This is basically how my brain works.

After all that, we head south and make our way to my absolute favorite spot: the Charlestown Breachway. It was actually quite warm for March 22. Wiley, my dog, jumps out of the car and runs around. I jump out of the car happy as a clam. I take my Uggs off and stick my toes in the water. Glen is up at the car, fiddling around in his trunk, shoving stuff in his pockets. When he finally walks down to the water, he hands me a bottle, awkwardly saying, “Oh, look what I found.” (It was perfect.)

Here we go, no turning back now.

We walk over to this little cement boat launch and sit down. I pull out the message in the bottle. When I’m done reading it, I turn to him. He pulls out the ring and says, “So do you want to do this forever?”

I start sobbing/bawling/laughing/hyperventilating/coughing. It was so great. It was so us. I don’t know what was sparkling more: his eyes, his smile or the ring (P.S. my ring is SUPER sparkly — good job Glen!). We just sit there, laughing. He says, “Well do you?” Oh! Yes I do!

Here’s the best part. Suddenly the biggest wind storm of your life comes out of nowhere. I swear, at least thirty mile-per-hour winds starts blasting us and we’re getting hammered with rocks, sand, dust and shells. Then there it goes: My letter flies into the ocean (well, the salt pond/breachway) and it starts floating away! I SCREAM and sprint into the water after it. Got it! Half way up the ramp, I lose it again. This wind wasn’t messing around. More screaming, more sprinting into the water (good thing I had taken my shoes off earlier). I’m soaking wet, dirty, sand in my teeth and hair, but I have it. I have my letter, I have a ring on my finger and I’m going to marry the man of my dreams.

What a way to start off our engagement. It fit us in every way. It would happen like this, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. And so began our engagement weekend.

1 comment

  1. Amazing! You should put the letter in a shadow box with other wedding items to save it. Beautiful story!

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