Married Dopers: Tell your proposal story

I think this has been done before, but in honor of Valentine’s Day I’d love to do this again.

As for me…

My then-boyfriend and I were on our way to South Carolina one April to get a basset hound from a breeder there. On the way, we stopped in Asheville, NC because I wanted to go to the Biltmore House. Now, we’d discussed marriage before in a vague way, but he had recently gotten a whopper of a tax bill and had just bought a condo so money was fairly tight. I figured this would put it all off. I suspected nothing.

We were touring the gardens and he was wandering around. He was looking for a place away from people, but all I knew was that he seemed to be going where all the boring flowerbeds were, where there were just dead tulip stalks. But when he suggested we sit down, I suddenly knew. He told me I was his best friend and then asked me to marry him. I said yes. No ring at that time, as we wanted to pick it out together.

Now we’ve been married five years.

I’m glad it happened at such a nice place. We haven’t been back since then, but someday we’ll return.


I might as well tell it here, since I can’t tell the whole story in RL polite company . . .

We were living 40 miles apart at the time, and during the week Mr. S would usually drop in on me and my roommate at night on his way to work his third-shift job.

He had been thinking about popping the question, especially around Valentine’s Day, but apparently I had been in an ongoing cranky mood about school, work, and life in general, and he didn’t want to risk being shot down. Apparently he tried to work the topic into conversation, but my bad mood was always in the way. (I don’t particularly recall being cranky, but I had a tendency toward surliness back then.)

Anyway, one Wednesday in March his car died, and he couldn’t get to work for three days, so he was stuck at home (dead of winter) while his brother-in-law worked on his car. He spent the time moping about not seeing me, and thinking about how miserable his life had been up until that point, and I guess that lit a fire under him.

Fast forward to Sunday night. His car is finally fixed, and he stops in as usual on his way to work. We retired to my room for a, ahem, reunion. While we were, er, reuniting, he was telling me about how bored he was sitting around by himself, and maybe we should just get an apartment together in the city where I was going to school, so we could be together and he could be closer to work, “or maybe we could just get married or something.” I replied with something like, “Oh, well I guess we could do that.” (I had already decided that if he hadn’t popped the Q by the time I graduated, I would ask him. I wasn’t going to let him get away!)

I tease him about this all the time. He didn’t get down on one knee (rather, he was sort of on both knees at the time :smiley: ), and he never actually said, “Will you marry me?” or anything like that. He didn’t even have to wear a tux at our courthouse wedding. Man, did he ever get off easy.

So anyway, very few people have ever heard the complete proposal story. Too embarrassing!

It was our second “dating” anniversary, and Joel and I had planned to spend it together. I don’t remember what the agenda was, but it was sure to end up with a romantic dinner and, I hoped, a marriage proposal. Unfortunately, my mom’s leg had been troubling her for a week, and that day the pain became intolerably bad, too bad to even stand up or get herself to the car. So she called an ambulance. Joel met me at the house and we went to the emergency room together. We ended up spending the whole day there until my mom’s knee was stabilized (a cyst had burst) and we were able to bring her home. Then Joel went out and brought back hamburgers and fries from the local greasy spoon for dinner. I admit I was disappointed in the way the day had turned out. But, after dinner, Joel actually got down on his knees, showed me the ring, and asked me to marry him. He’s such a sweetie :slight_smile:

We’ve been married 5 years, 1 month, and 6 days :slight_smile:

We had been living together for nearly a year, and though he made it quite plain that he would never consider living with a woman he didn’t intend to marry, I will admit I was starting to think he’d never really get around to it (not that I was terribly concerned, I was just wondering.) He had had thyroid cancer, and was waiting for a totally clean bill of health.

So one day he went to the doctor, then called me at work.

Him: Don’t make any plans for tonight - we have to talk.
Me: How did it go at the doctor’s?
Him: I can’t talk now. I’ll see you at home.

After an afternoon of convincing myself the cancer had returned, he came home and told me we were going to dinner. At dinner, he informed me that if anything ever happened to him, his father was the executor of his estate, I was the beneficiary of his insurance policy, his attorney was working on getting my name onto all his legal stuff, he’d set up a small trust fund for my younger brothers, and did I understand all this?

With tears running down my face, I said, “I think so. How much time do we have?”

He said, “The rest of our lives. I’m totally cancer-free. Wanna get married?”

I’d like to say that I accepted with a joyous heart. Or maybe that I called him a bonehead for scaring me so badly. What I actually said was, “You have to ask my mom, because technically, I am still grounded for taking the car without permission.”

This is the second marriage for both of us. After his first time around, he always seemed vehemently opposed to marriage. We’d been living together quite happily for a number of years with no talk of marriage. So it was a bit of a shock to receive an engagement ring one Christmas morning. :slight_smile:

I may have told this here before, maybe in bits and pieces, but here’s the whole story:

April. 1983. The Saturday morning before Easter. The future Mrs. L and I are in bed and the subject of the next day’s family Easter visit comes up. She makes some comment about not being sure she wants to go, as she’s starting to feel awkward about being at family gatherings without being a member of the family. IIRC I made a joking remark about talking to two friends of ours who were getting married the next month about making it a double ceremony, she pointed out that this would be a little presumptuous on our part, and this led to us planning our own wedding.

Later that day occurs to her that the words “will you marry me?” have never crossed my lips. She brings up the subject, and I promptly change it. During the next few months this scenario repeats itself; it becomes a joke among our friends and family that I never actually proposed to her. She tries proposing to me, but I always either change the subject or pretend not to hear her. This continues right up to the day of the wedding.

At the foot of the altar, after the friend who substituted for her (long-dead) father hands her over to me, I lean over and say just loud enough for her to hear, “Hey, lady, if you’re not doing anything do you want to get married?”

I told her later that I had gotten so tired of being rejected by past girlfriends that I wanted to make sure she’d say yes, and I figured she wouldn’t dare say no in front of everyone we knew. She says I had just trying to drive her crazy, and the only reason I’d finally proposed to her was because I was tired of hearing her complain about it.

We may have both been right.

My wife and I met during our freshman years at college. We had mutual friends, and we hit it off very well, but considered ourselves “just friends.” All our other friends told us what a cute couple we were, and we should get serious, but we always maintainted we were “just friends.”

After the summer break, though, we realized we were more than “just friends.” I and three of my friends had an apartment in town, and she and I were cuddling on the couch one evening, during a rare moment when we had the place totally to ourselves. I said to her, “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”

She answered, “I’d consider it.”

So I told her, “Consider it.”

A month later she told me, “I’m going to marry you.”

Just like LurkMeister, I never actually asked her to marry me until about four years after we were married. The setting on her engagement ring had worn down to the point where she was afraid of losing the stone, so she stopped wearing it. I had a friend in the jewelry business, so, unbeknownst to her, I took it to him to fix. I got it back from him shortly before our anniversary, and on that day, I asked her, “If you had the chance to do it all over again, would you marry me?”

She answered, “Yes, of course,” and I knelt before her and presented her with her ring all over again, asking her to marry me.

I guess I’m doing something right, because we’ve been married 20 years and seven months.

Can’t tell this one if I want to stay married. :smiley:

I’ll just tell you that our first kiss was on Halloween (1988), and I proposed to her on Friday the 13th (of the following October).

We’re coming up on our 12th anniversary. So far, we haven’t lived on Elm Street. :slight_smile:

Jaime had been living with me for about 2 months. He wanted to buy me a ring for Christmas. I was only 16, so he assured me that it was just a “promise” ring. We went to the jewelry store a few doors up from my job and picked out a saphire ring. It was beautiful, and not terribly expensive, and I loved it. But he wouldn’t let me keep it until he gave it to me on Christmas.
On Christmas Eve at about 12:30, we were still awake in my bedroom. I could hear my parents…I mean, Santa Claus…moving around in the living room.
Jaime knelt in front of me on the small, cramped floor (my bedroom was practically a closet.) He then gave me a speech, informing me I’m his best friend, the best thing that ever happened to him, and would I marry him?
I accepted.
We never told anybody my Christmas present was an engagement ring.
2 years later, right after my 18th birthday, we picked out another ring. (The stone fell out of the first one and we could never getit fixed. :frowning: ) We picked out another saphire stone, set with small diamonds. He held onto it until Christmas, then he gave it to me. On January 1, 2001, we announced our engagement to my family.
But really, I can’t remember any time we didn’t know we were going to get married. It was just a given.

Leechboy told me once of how his ideal proposal would happen - go watch Casablanca at the Astor Theatre followed by romantic moonlight proposal at St Kilda beach.

Many months later he took me out to the movies - to see Casablanca at the Astor Theatre followed by romantic moonlight walk at St Kilda beach. I kept waiting for the proposal but nothing happened.

The following week I went out and bought a ring for him and took him out to dinner followed by a walk around the Melbourne CBD. We passed the Treasury Buildings where there were some people doing a photo shoot for a bridal magazine it seemed appropriate, so I stopped leechboy at the fountain nearby got down on one knee and proposed. I was terrified he’d say no, he was in shock that I did the proposing. Seemed like forever before he said ‘yes’ but it was only a few seconds.

Turned out he had meant to propose to me that night at the movies but the engagement ring he’d chosen was locked up in his mums jewelery box and she was out of town :slight_smile:

This morning HubbySthrnAccent phoned from work and said, “Happy Engagement Anniversary and thank you for saying yes 19 years ago.”

That about sums it up. He had bought the ring and it was in his top dresser drawer and he was planning to ask on Valentine’s day, but I was there and the fireplace was on and he decided not to wait.

He asked…

I cried… (and kinda looked like a fish gasping, according to him)

I asked for the phone.

I tracked my sister down in a Holiday Inn in Kentucky and told her that “He asked me to marry him!!” Tears all around… Then she asked what my answer was.

I hung up on my sister, turned and looked into his befuddled eyes and said, “Yes!”

He said, “Kinda figured that - with the tears and all.”

We’ve been married for 8 years and 8 months.

UncleBill and I made a trip out to Colorado last March for a long weekend skiing and visiting with my brothers. We stayed at my brother Jim’s house and had a lovely visit.

Monday morning, we had to get up early to get ready to head back to the airport. While I was in the bedroom getting dressed, I could hear bits of the conversation between Bill and my brother --I had told Bill that since my father isn’t around any more, he’d have to ask my big brother for my hand, and it sounded like they were having that conversation. When I came out, Jim said, “So, Bill tells me he’d like to be related to us. I couldn’t be more delighted.” He went to wake his wife up so she could come down and say goodbye, and we exchanged hugs all around.

Our flights were scheduled to leave about an hour apart. While we were waiting for my plane to begin boarding, Bill suddenly dropped to one knee, took my hand in his and said, “Lise, I love you very much. Will you marry me?” I was so stunned, all I could do was whisper, “Yes,” and he pulled the ring out of his sleeve and slipped it on my finger. I burst into tears. We had been talking marriage for several weeks at that point, but I was absolutely not expecting it right then. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to pull out one of the smart-ass answers I’d been practicing. Two ladies who were also waiting at the gate came by a minute later and asked, “Did you say yes?”

We’ve been married for three months today. I’m digging it so far.

It was my birthday. We were going out to dinner with my family, then back to my parents’ house for cake and presents. He had brought along a brown paper bag that he wouldn’t let me touch and insisted on giving me my present last.

He gave me a vial of clear liquid, a vial of yellowish liquid, a vial of fishing weights, a wooden bead shaped like an apple, a Christmas tree ornament that was a little church that opened up, and a small rubber duck. “It’s a puzzle!” he said gleefully.

I was mystified. I could not figure out what this was supposed to be, a rebus or something? I sat there on the living room floor with my whole family watching me be confused.

He said maybe it would help if he put them in order, so he laid them out in a row and told me what they were: Rain*, apple, cider, church, lead, and a duck. “I couldn’t find anything for gravy” he said. It still hadn’t clicked for me. “Oh, and I forgot the very small rock,” he said.**

He took out a jeweler’s box, and opened it. Upside down. I took it from him, turned it rightside up, looked at the ring, looked at him, but didn’t say anything. (I had had a boyfriend give me a ring once before that was not an engagement ring, so I wasn’t sure whether that’s what this one was.) After several long seconds of silence, he said in a nervous rush, “Will you marry me?” After several more long seconds, I said “Yes!”

There were two extra ducks in the package the duck had come in, so we put a top hat and veil on them and put them on the wedding cake instead of bride and groom figures.

  • Yes, I know (now) that it’s Bread, not rain.
    ** For those who are as confused as I was, this sequence comes from a scene in the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which we had both seen several times. Yup, we’re geeks.

I know I’ve told this before but…

My husband and I had been friends for years before we started dating. When we started dating, he moved in with me almost immediately. I’d been married before, he’d been engaged. I was pretty happy not being married.

After about a year of living together, over a romantic dinner at home of frozen pizza he says, “We should get married.”


“Because I’m tired of referring to you as the shameless hussy I shack up with, its just much easier to say wife.”

I maintain I am married today because there is no really good word for someone you are shacked up with.

That’s it. No ring (that came later), no flowers, no “I love you.” I dated Mr. Romance once - it was horrible. I married Mr. “Too Lazy to Explain the Relationship” and have been blissfully happen for almost eight years. (But I still don’t get flowers)

Mrs.Phlosphr and I met in Arizona. We were in the same grad school program for environmental Psychology. As it happens, Mrs.Phlosphr then Ms.Sweety, and I grew up not 10 miles away from each other in Connecticut. We thought immediately that that was a coincidence that needed to be explored more. That was 8 years ago.

Anyway back to the OP. We ended up moving back to Connecticut after we got our masters. We were talking about marriage for quite some time, we both knew it was going to happen, but she had no idea when or where… As it happens Mrs.Phlosphrs favorite music artist is Bruce ***** . I happen to know his agent I went to High School with her daughter. Anyway. He was playing close to us and I asked if it would be possible for him to help me propose to Ms.Sweety.

After about a month, he - Bruce - said yes and then 2 months later we were at his concert.

In the middle of the concert the band took what most thought was break. The lights went dim and Bruce walked out to center stage and said…

“There is a bit of an emergency folks, we are looking for a certain person in the crowd by the name of Ms.Sweety…Are you out there?”

We had 3rd row seats and when Bruce said that she almost melted…Looked at me and said… “Wow honey, there’s someone missing in the crowd with my name”

So for fear she wouldn’t believe me I said " Why I think it’s YOU!!"

Then she knew, and started jumping up and down like silly little girl though she was 26…

To make an epic just a little shorter, Ms.Sweety and I went up to the stage, And Bruce said that this is a very special day for you now isn’t it…Not knowing what he was talking about fully Ms.Sweety blushed and didn’t really know what to say…

He kept talking to her, while I proceeded to get down on one knee right behind her… So he pointed to me, she turned around, and I Proposed in front of 10 thousand people… He then got up, shook my hand and gave her a big hug, and dedicated the remainder of the concert to us…

We have been together ever since. :slight_smile: she is my true companion.

Yeah. Pizza.

We were sitting in the PX at Fort Meade eating some greasy pizza for lunch. I looked at her across the table and asked, “So do you want to marry me or what?”

She cried in her pizza and said “Yes.”

I too, am a romantic.

We’d been branding cattle all day and smelled of horse sweat, dust and singed hide. She was wearing a sleeveless plaid shirt and had a sunburned nose. I’d never seen her look prettier.

We took a walk along the cliffs toward dusk and sat on a beautiful outcrop to watch the sun go down, not far from where her dad had proposed to her mother 27 years before.

Wow, Phlosphr, I’d marry you too!

The future LadyRed was living in Las Vegas, and I had gone there to see her. I suggested that we go up to the Stratosphere tower, which is the tallest building in LV (about 1100 feet), and from which you can get an excellent view of the city and the mountains surrounding it.

So, standing there on the observation deck of the Stratosphere, I began:

“In that direction, over those mountains, is California - which is where my past was…” (I lived there for a few years as a young child.)

“No,” the ever-helpful young lady interjected, “California is in that direction.”

“Oh, OK. And in that direction, over those other mountains, is New York - which is where my present is…”

“No, New York would be over there.”

Sheesh, lady, I’m trying to be romantic here! Don’t confuse me with the facts! “Let’s start over again, then. Over there - in that direction - is my past, and in that other direction is my present.”

“And where’s your future?” (Finally!)

“Right here with you, if you agree.”

She didn’t say anything, just gave me a big smile. Our third anniversary is next week, G-d willing. :slight_smile: