Now that it’s Valentine’s Day, I realized that I never said much about how Jake and I got engaged. It’s just that, when it happened, I told the story so many times out loud that I got lazy about putting it into writing. But, it’s also one of my favorite memories of all time, and I’m feeling nostalgic. So here goes.
Jake and I started looking at rings in late 2015 / early 2016. I remember it being winter, and we were home in Connecticut, so it was probably around the holidays. We went one time to Dunstan Jewelers in Avon, CT (now permanently closed), tried on a few different shapes and sizes, and then left. And then Jake never said another word about it.
A few months came and went, and in May we planned a tenth anniversary, long-weekend trip to the Adirondacks. We had just taken a 9-day trip to Europe, which I had planned and book almost completely on my own, so allegedly “as a thank you” Jake insisted on doing all of the planning for the anniversary — down to researching different restaurants, hikes, and Airbnb options.
I had hoped this meant a ring was coming — it was our tenth anniversary, after all. And, we would have seclusion and privacy, which was something I had expressed a preference towards if there would ever be a proposal. Not to mention the fact that we share a mutual love of being outside, and everything about the trip felt perfect. Until, within literally minutes of arriving at our Airbnb, we lost the keys.
Luckily, the owners had a spare set, but we spent a while searching the front walk and digging through our bags. At one point, I asked, “Hey babe, do you mind if I check your duffel one more time?” And Jake said, “No prob, go ahead.” Which meant there was not a ring in there. And that kind of freaked me out.
This freakout spiraled a bit, and by the end of the evening I was crying in a grocery store parking lot because Jake had so thoroughly convinced me that I had been terribly mistaken, and there was no ring coming after all. In fact, I believed this so thoroughly that I didn’t think twice when Jake gently nudged me to go on a hike the next morning even though I didn’t feel well. And I didn’t think twice when he wheezed his way up the mountain, lagging behind me and constantly stopping to pee even though he has much longer legs and is in much better shape. Nor did I think twice when he started waxing poetic at the peak, talking about “the last 10 years” and having a future together. Until he got down on one knee.
I was absolutely stunned. Turns out, Jake had intentionally hidden the ring elsewhere and was thrilled when I asked to look through his bag. He knew that I’d be obsessing over where it was and that I’d think the worst when I didn’t see it, just like he knew I’d feel better after getting some fresh air and going on the hike regardless of my upset stomach. And it turns out that he was lagging so far behind because his heart was pounding so hard he could barely walk. I don’t know about you, but all of that that is extremely endearing to me.
Maybe the cutest part, though, was that he arranged for our parents to meet us at dinner that night. On the walk back down the mountain, after the proposal, I was raving about how I couldn’t wait to get home to Connecticut to tell everyone. He insisted we stay for dinner because “the restaurant had promised champagne.” Which, like…fine, you’ve convinced me. We’ll stay for the champagne.
Of course, the champagne was just a very successful ruse and our families were in on the surprise. I walked into the restaurant thinking we’d be heading for a table for two and literally looked past where everyone was sitting. By the time I realized what was going on, my legs had given out from shock and I burst into tears. Then Jake’s dad started crying, my dad started crying, and we all sort of stood around hugging and wiping our faces for a few minutes. It was, quite frankly, the best. (And yes, you read that right; the men cried first).
Now here we are almost two years later, and I sort of can’t believe he knew me so well. He knew the kind of place I’d want to stay, my thought process on where the ring would be — the lost key was not part of the plan, by the way. It’s gone forever and we still don’t know what happened to it — and the fact that once it was official I would want us to be with our in-laws-to-be. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
So anyway, that’s my mushy Valentine’s Day post. I feel incredibly lucky to be married to someone so thoughtful and creative and kind, and I am so excited for him to come home this weekend after 5 weeks away.
Some more practical takeaways for those of you who are here for the recommendations rather than the romance: the two particular items of clothing I was wearing during the hike which made the whole thing much more enjoyable since it was quite chilly.
- My EMS puffer jacket, which I bought at Jake’s mother’s urging shortly before our trip (because she knows I hate being cold and that Jake was planning on proposing). I still wear it all the time and I think about that weekend every time I pull it out of the closet. Thanks, Cathleen!
- My hiking boots. I wear these much less frequently than the jacket, but I’ve been grateful that I have them every time I need them. This particular pair is comfortable, durable, and — maybe most importantly — waterproof. I love wading through streams and mud in them becuase I feel untouchable.
Also, please stay at that Airbnb if you’re in the area; it’s absolute perfection. And I’d recommend the restaurant, too, but apparently it closed a few months after our dinner there.
Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope all of you are doing something really special.