In the weeks and months that followed the relational breakthrough with Tim, life became a whirlwind of change and activity. A whirlwind that would continue spinning for years.
My brother Wil was moving into the area, from Clinton Ontario, and asked if I might be interested in renting a small cottage-style house with him. I was thrilled! Having left home the month before my 16th birthday, I had never again had a real home, without invading someone else’s space. He and I would share space.
Wil and I would remember how to ‘live together’ from years gone by, right down to little details like the way he spread peanut butter on his bread, careful not to get any on the knife, past the first several inches. I, on the other hand got into it half way up my elbows. (It’s just that good.) These quirks and habits would be familiar, and our temperaments had always blended well. He was my best friend most of my life until I escaped from home.
I anticipated we would share the cottage for a year or two, then one or both of us would get married. But God had other plans, and when he revealed them to Tim, so did he. And soon I did too.
It was Tuesday August 17, only days before our fifth ‘month-iversary’. Tim had a baseball game that night, and I went with him to watch. He wore his blue and white baseball suit, that hugged his body the way baseball suits do. Coincidentally, I matched him, in a blue and white T-shirt dress, as we called them. It was a dress made of T-shirt fabric. It broke the church rules, ever so slightly, having a fake ‘cape panel’ at the front and no cape at all at the back. It was the last small piece of fabric at the store, barely enough for a dress at all, but I loved it so much I was determined to make it work. I wasn’t trying to break the rules.
After the game we returned to Tim’s home for a few hours. Sometime, just before midnight, I prepared to leave. Tim walked me to the door, where we stood and chatted a while. We talked about our friends who had gotten become engaged on the weekend. Sunday night, to be exact. We were both very happy for them. And then Tim told me something that took me off guard. He had planned to propose that week, but when our friends announced their engagement, he decided he didn’t want to steal their thunder. And, besides, he told me, he didn’t want it to look like he was trying to keep up the pace with them.
As we continued talking, I had this sense that Tim was about to do the first impulsive thing I had ever seen him do. He was about to propose. Right there. Right then. No perfect plan. No dinner out. No candlelight and roses. Just love.
It wasn’t like him to be impulsive, and I’m not sure why I sensed it coming, but I suddenly chattered incessantly. There was no way I would let him do that. He would regret it. He’d wake up the next morning and wish he hadn’t done it. I had to say ‘Good night’ and leave.
Tim was as perceptive. He raised his right hand slowly, placing his index finger on my lips. “Shhhh…” There was a twinkle in his eyes. He dropped down on one knee, holding my gaze. And then he popped the question…
“Trudy, will you marry me?”
I wanted to shout it. I was ecstatic! But only a whisper emerged from my lips. “Yes!”
The clock had slipped past midnight. In the wee minutes of August 18, 1993, Tim and I were engaged to be married. Dreams burst to life in my heart….
© Trudy Metzger
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