I was closed-lipped about our Valentine’s weekend getaway. I was to be ready to leave from the Air Force base where we both worked by 6:00 p.m. He gave no other clues.
A few hours after our departure, we arrived at the beautiful cabin he had rented near a Northern Georgia mountain town. Valentine’s Day morning, we had breakfast, exchanged gifts and cards, and then headed into Helen for some sightseeing.
After a full day, I have informed me he had brought some work he needed to do. Knowing him to be a workaholic, I was neither surprised nor disappointed. He went to the bedroom while I curled up on the couch to watch a Doris Day movie.
Sometime later and half asleep, I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me.
“I forgot to give you a few presents,” he said, sitting down next to me. I sat up, groggy but curious.
He handed me several small boxes and told a story about each present as I opened them one by one.
I unwrapped delicate pearls from Hawaii and listened as he painted a picture of turquoise water and white sand paradise. Next was a pair of exotic gold earrings from Saudi Arabia and I listened as he described the stark deserts of the Middle East. I opened box after box of jewelry and enjoyed his descriptions of the distant places where he’d found them.
Then he pulled out several sheets of paper—the “work” he had been doing. A list of everything he liked about me. A beautiful love letter. A letter that reduced me to a blubbery, weepy mess.
“Michelle, each one of these gifts I’ve given you were all purchased on different occasions, in many different locations during my ten years in the Air Force.” I am paused. “They were all purchased with my future wife in mind.”
As I tried to process it all, he slipped down on one knee, took my hands in his and asked me to marry him. I drew him into a passionate embrace with my equally passionate answer.
Today, a beautiful jewelry armoire cradles those wonderful, worldly gifts. But my most cherished treasure is the man who so lovingly thought and planned and shopped for his future wife. My jewel of a husband.
- Michelle Isenhour
A few hours after our departure, we arrived at the beautiful cabin he had rented near a Northern Georgia mountain town. Valentine’s Day morning, we had breakfast, exchanged gifts and cards, and then headed into Helen for some sightseeing.
After a full day, I have informed me he had brought some work he needed to do. Knowing him to be a workaholic, I was neither surprised nor disappointed. He went to the bedroom while I curled up on the couch to watch a Doris Day movie.
Sometime later and half asleep, I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me.
“I forgot to give you a few presents,” he said, sitting down next to me. I sat up, groggy but curious.
He handed me several small boxes and told a story about each present as I opened them one by one.
I unwrapped delicate pearls from Hawaii and listened as he painted a picture of turquoise water and white sand paradise. Next was a pair of exotic gold earrings from Saudi Arabia and I listened as he described the stark deserts of the Middle East. I opened box after box of jewelry and enjoyed his descriptions of the distant places where he’d found them.
Then he pulled out several sheets of paper—the “work” he had been doing. A list of everything he liked about me. A beautiful love letter. A letter that reduced me to a blubbery, weepy mess.
“Michelle, each one of these gifts I’ve given you were all purchased on different occasions, in many different locations during my ten years in the Air Force.” I am paused. “They were all purchased with my future wife in mind.”
As I tried to process it all, he slipped down on one knee, took my hands in his and asked me to marry him. I drew him into a passionate embrace with my equally passionate answer.
Today, a beautiful jewelry armoire cradles those wonderful, worldly gifts. But my most cherished treasure is the man who so lovingly thought and planned and shopped for his future wife. My jewel of a husband.
- Michelle Isenhour
