I have gone from the dregs of despair to feeling like I’ve won life’s lottery.
We drove up the coast to one of our favorite spots, Solstice Canyon. We were both free and Kai suggested we go for a hike.
The sky was sharp cerulean. All the hills were green from the past few months of rain, and the sun was bright. We found our path and began walking up the steep hills, where the still-damp dirt was washed through with crevasses we had to hop over. We talked, then just climbed.
I get winded a little easier since I’ve been carrying these little babies, but it felt good to breathe hard. Everything smelled like Eucalyptus and Rosemary. We stopped here and there to take in the view. Kai took selfies of us, which is usually more my job.
Near the top of the mountain we strayed from the path and followed a tiny trail through the brambles that led to the peak. The peak was a grassy meadow with a seascape on all sides. The ocean was a deep sapphire, dappled with light. We sat down in the grass and let the sun warm our faces.
We both meditate for 24 minutes every day, and sitting surrounded by nature, this seemed like the perfect place. He set his watch and we closed our eyes, and heard wind rustling, birds chirping, and the occasional small plane fly by. I fell into my own breath, and soon was roused by the beep.
I opened my eyes.
He was on one knee.
I looked at him, taking note of his amber-green eyes. He was really seeing me. And he was on one knee. The breeze blew.
He said, “Will you marry me?”
Tears came to my eyes. “Are you serious?” I think I said, and as he told me he was, I said, “yes!” And more tears came. I hugged him.
“I love you,” I said. “I have known you’re what I wanted since we met.”
“I love you too,” he said. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Yes I did,” I said. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”
He hugged me more. He told me he had asked my parents’ blessing over Christmas, and I thought of how, at Christmas, I had, in a hormonal fit, reamed him up one side and down the other for saying the wrong thing on the car ride to Kentucky. It had taken me days to forgive myself. I couldn’t believe he could love me past that enough to know he wanted to marry me.
He held out some ring-shaped blue plastic. “I wish I had the ring. I’ve picked one out, I just didn’t know what size you were, and I tried every way I could to figure it out. Can you try these on?”
I didn’t care, I told him, if I even got a ring. Yes, it would be nice to have that symbol to look at when I’m feeling low, but he was my prize. I couldn’t stop smiling as I tried them on. “I feel so precious, like a little doll right now,” I said.
“You are so precious.”
He told me that for months, he had been talking to his cousin and to one of his friends about proposing, telling them he’d probably do it within six months to a year. He said that one night after a discussion with them, he actually went online and started searching for rings.
The next day, he said, was the day we found out I was pregnant.
And like that, I have gone from a single gal who worries about dying alone, to a woman on the verge of having my ideal husband and two children at once. Divine timing is real, it turns out.