On my first date with my wife, I brought her a single red rose, I thought it was a sweet gesture, but had no idea the impact it would have on our lives. She absolutely raved about it and made the comment “No one has ever brought me flowers. I think I will marry the first man who brings me a dozen roses.” I, of course, picked up on this nugget and filed it away for future examination.
At our one month anniversary I was certain that the feelings I had for her were growing stronger exponentially, so I began to hatch an idea. I thought, “What if I sent her 11 roses?” and I did. The florist thought it was a strange request but followed through anyway. When they were delivered, my wife called to thank me. She told me that a co worker had pointed out to her that there were only 11, not the traditional 12, and that perhaps the florist had made a mistake. I assured her that there was no mistake, but would not elaborate any further.
For the next 8 months I sent her 11 roses for our monthly anniversary. I had decided that I would propose in February and worked out a plan with a local restaurant manager. I sent my wife 11 roses for our anniversary as normal…she was getting frustrated at this point, having deduced my reasoning for the 11 roses…but I had the 12th delivered to the restaurant we would be dinning at for Valentine’s Day.
My plan was to propose on the deck overlooking the lake. Living in Atlanta, the winter had been quite mild and I thought it would be very nice. Well, night came and it was freezing with a light mist. I picked her up and we headed out, my mind was just this side of fevered, trying to work out all the details of my proposal. In the end I determined that I had no time for “plan b” so I stuck with my original idea.
Upon my signal, the waiter would set up the scene for me out on the deck. An antique bud vase and a single red rose. I had a devil of a time convincing her to go outside with me. I told her it would be nice to watch the lake. She was having none of it, so I told her that she REALLY wanted to step out there with me. She did so, and as soon as I opened the door, she began to cry. I handed her the handkerchief in my pocket to blot her eyes and took out another to kneel on and took the ring from my jacket.
I took her hand and said “When we first went out, I brought you a rose and you told me that the first guy to bring you a dozen roses you would marry. Earlier today you received 11 roses from me and this is number 12. Will you marry me?” Now at this point people inside the restaurant are crowding the glass and watching, she is crying uncontrollably (I am pretty sure that incoherent vocalization was a “Yes”) and we are both getting cold and a little damp. I slipped the ring on her finger and I stood. We held each other there for a moment and then went back inside.
Applause, cheers and congratulatory expressions were abundant. I took a great deal of pride and satisfaction in knowing how happy she was.
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