On and On

Two years ago, on Christmas morning, my husband proposed to me. 

As stated before, I am truly a Christmas spirit and have always begun celebrating the holiday long before my parents (as a child) or husband (as an adult) would want to hear Bing Crosby ringing through the car stereos.  I remember one year, as I placed a Christmas tape in the car's tape player, my dad saying, "Aw, come on, it's way too early for this."  My response was, "NOOO, Halloween is over, it's Christmas time!"  To say the least, an engagement on Christmas morning made perfect sense for this girl.



Our tree that Christmas....the scrapbook page is propped to the right.



That Christmas Eve, my husband had stayed up much later than me....wrapping presents and setting up the TV I had asked for in the kitchen.  When we woke up the next morning, I was not surprised to see the TV there.  I was surprised that it had been completely hooked up and was turned on.  I thought to myself, "I really made out well this year!"  We opened our other gifts and took a breather on the couch before the day of  being bounced around from family to family began...or in other words "family foosball."

This is where my morning becomes something like a scene from A Christmas Story.  My husband said, "Hey, what's that up there on the bookcase?"  Was it an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle?  No...I'd shoot my eye out!  It was a wrapped gift, looking much like the shape of a calendar, something that just happened to be on my list every year.  I grabbed the gift and brought it back to the couch to open it.  As I pulled the paper away, my breath was caught in my chest.  It was a scrapbook page...THAT MY HUSBAND HAD MADE!  Now after dating a guy for 11 years...this can really only mean one thing.  While I am an avid scrapbooker, my husband was not one to craft.  This page had two pictures on it, one of us from our high school graduation and another from our college years.  There was a poem written in his handwriting that he had copied from a page I had made of the two of us years before.  And at the bottom of the page, there was a little pocket that had letter stickers written out to say, "Will you marry me"  He had forgotten the question mark, but hey let's give the man some credit...he was scrapbooking!  Inside the pocket was my engagement ring, tied to a piece of gray yarn.  This is where the hands begin to shake and all breath is gone.  Andrew got down on one knee and put the ring on my finger.  Then he said, "Sooo?"  And I said, "Yes!"  I hugged him, kissed him, and tears came. 

My hands shook for the remainder of the morning.  Shaking as I called and texted everyone, who already knew and were waiting anxiously!!!  Shaking as I finished up craft gifts for his parents.  Shaking as I got myself ready to show off that ring.  Christmas morning will always be even more special to me....I didn't think that was possible.

Now 4 days ago, on December 22nd, my sister's boyfriend proposed to her.  Similar to my husband and I, they were at home.  Her boyfriend pulled out a yellow box that had been hidden behind their tiny apartment-sized Christmas tree.  He got down on one knee and the rest is history.  I am so happy for the two of them and I know they will share years of happiness together.  The large box of wedding magazines that I had been hoarding for years now, has been passed along to my little sister.  It doesn't make me sad to pass them along.  When asked how I felt after my wedding, was I sad or happy it was over?  I felt neither.  It felt perfect...I didn't want to plan anymore, but I hadn't felt overwhelmed by the experience.  I am hoping this same feeling for Shannon as she plans and eventually ties the knot.  I am hoping she will pass these magazines onto some other new bride-to-be with joy some day.  She deserves it.

Shannon and Nick at my wedding.

We can go on and on

Won't ever feel too long

I'll always call you home

And we'll go on and on

-Miranda Lambert

Hoping your Christmas was as full of love as ours.

<3- Sarah