after the weekend report

We had a full and fun weekend in Augusta. The party to celebrate Trisha's graduation Saturday night was hosted by her great-aunt and -uncle. A beautifully landscaped yard, pool and a guest cottage to escape the humidity (which was wretched!) provided a wonderful setting for casual conversation. Trisha's Mom provided an amazing array of food, and the extended family were warm, welcoming, gracious and fun. We enjoyed getting to know them and look forward to future opportunities to build those relationships.

Sunday afternoon Trisha and Junior came out to Melrose for several hours, and we enjoyed that relaxed time with them. They've got a busy time ahead as they make a move to Charlotte, NC where Trisha will start work. They've found a potential place to live, but there are a number of decisions to make related to this option, and lots of what happens next depends somewhat on those decisions. Junior has three weeks of training at Ft. Benning at the end of the month, so that adds a wrinkle as well. Isn't life ever thus? It looks like a spring wedding will be planned, but further details at this time are still in the offing.

In between family time and events we were thrilled to have time with our friends and hosts for the weekend, Jimmy and Barbara. Not only did we have time just to hang out and enjoy their company, they also accommodated our varied schedule and seeminly constantly changing plans with grace and nonchalance. We are so grateful for their hospitality and friendship.

On our return we learned of the tragic death over the weekend of Ken's cousin Walter Lee, in a head-on collision in Missouri. It is disorienting for Ken, I think, on the heels of the death just a month ago of his last surviving aunt (same side of the family). The precise cause of the accident is still unknown, but it took five lives, including Walter Lee's wife of six weeks. Though I did not know Walter Lee well at all, I am filled with sadness for him, and all concerned.

Today we are tending to more details than I'd like to have on my list, but one of them is the happy task of delivering shoes for school children that were collected and offered at church yesterday for a local ministry. It is a blessed thing to be the conveyor of good tidings and meet some essential needs for the young in our community.

Blessings to one and all. I hope the week is off to a good start and brings good tidings your way as well.

woohooooo, part 2

Woohooo, indeed! As my sister-in-law likes to say, we're so excited we could just plottz! (or however you spell that).

We tried to reach Junior and Trisha yesterday to find out if the plan for the proposal unfolded as designed, and to get some details filled in. Alas, the word was out and I suspect they were pretty busy fielding phone calls, questions and congratulations since we weren't able to reach either one of them. And Trisha is no doubt still a-flutter with the reality of being newly engaged! Minus the details we can at least tell you what was planned, though sharing the intended itinerary alone has much less drama!

Junior arranged for a limosine to pick Trisha up at work at 4:00 PM. In the limo were three dozen red roses and a dress and shoes to wear to dinner. The limo then delivered her to a spa where she had a massage, manicure and pedicure, then an appointment with a hairdresser (who had been given a picture of Trisha in a particular 'do). I'm assuming that makeup came with the hair.

Ken and I have different recollections of where Trisha was going to change into her dinner clothes, but let's just take it for granted that her clothes did, indeed, get changed!

Next stop, dinner at a very nice restaurant. I think I'm missing part of the story about dinner, because Junior was in cahoots with the restaurant about something, but to my knowledge they didn't do anything there except eat and enjoy a bit of animated conversation! I'm also imagining that Trisha might be thinking that the pampering prelude was setting the stage for a dinner proposal. What a shock it must have been when that didn't happen!

From dinner the next stop was an airport. I don't know which one and Ken doesn't know which one, but it really doesn't matter (it only occurs to my brain to wonder so that I have all the facts). The destination at the airport was a helicopter that would take them for an evening ride over the city of Atlanta. It was there, in the air, that the proposal was to take place.

Back here on the homefront we were a bit giddy with anticipation. We'd look at the clock and say, "the plan is underway!" or "dinner!" Once the helicopter appointment time came and went we couldn't be separated from the phone, but in due time, sleep overtook us. At 11:00 our time my phone, by the side of the bed, woke me up and Junior responded to my groggy hello with the news that he was an engaged man! Woohoo!!

What's next? The first order of business is that there is a party happening in Augusta. Trisha just completed the final requirements for her degree in Business Administration and will be starting work soon. To celebrate that transition in life the party was planned as a graduation and moving party. With this latest change in status, the party now celebrates an engagement as well. Prior to the prposal we had debated going to the party. We adore Trisha and wanted to be there to celebrate her achievements. The kicker was that it is at 6:00 PM on Saturday, six and a half hours away. Too tight to be back for Sunday morning. The engagement, however, makes this a family affair, so tomorrow morning we will head to Augusta for the hoopla, returning Sunday.

As for the when and where of getting married, there are no details yet, though I image we'll be talking about that this weekend. Junior is slated to deploy sometime next year (I'm cringing--unless he goes back to his old unit with the Rangers he will not be nearly as safe), so it is probably safe to say that they will get married prior to that. But who knows? When we get back from the weekend I'll have lots more information to share.

Today I am grateful for love. For Junior and Trisha, especially, and the joy they bring to my heart as part of my family. These are my favorite pictures of them. I'm so delighted to share the joy!

woohoooooo! part 1

I love a good story. I love it even better when I get to be part of it! Let me set the scene for you.

Tuesday morning fairly early Ken’s phone rings. It’s Junior. It appears that he is looking for his suit, which he thinks is hanging in the closet in our guest room. I’m blogging, so Ken heads down the hall to the guest room for a look. There’s silence for a moment, and then I hear him say, “If you could see this room you’d understand that I don’t know how to answer your question.” I burst out laughing, because once again, the guest room is doubling as a staging area while my office approaches the final stages of its overhaul. But I digress.

Why is Junior looking for his suit? Apparently he plans to take Trisha out to dinner that evening. Since his suit is here and he is there (outside of Atlanta) we suggest that he make a trip to the local Men’s Wearhouse to buy one. A quick Internet search tells us that there is one five miles from him. We disconnect, and then Ken tells me, “You know why he wants the suit…this is the night.” “He’s proposing?” “He’s proposing to Trisha!”

Several conversations more with Junior take place. The store isn’t open until ten. He’s worried that he won’t find a suit that will fit him (he’s 6’5, lean, with broad shoulders…). He’s got a lot of things to take care of for the evening. The three of us are all thinking the same thing—meet him halfway and get the suit to him. He’s three and a half hours away.

The suit has fallen off its hanger and is crumpled in the bottom of the garment bag in which it was stored and needs to be steamed. We finish our breakfast, get dressed, and by 9:00 we are out the door and headed to the cleaners.

We are in touch with Junior regularly on the phone, trying to calculate where the “halfway” place will be. Between Nashville and Chattanooga the interstate takes a dip into Georgia, and there is an exit along that small stretch where we often get gas on road trips that take us along that route (GA gas can be cheaper than TN). We estimate that this is the exit where we’ll meet.

And then, about twenty miles shy of that exit we hit traffic. We’re pretty sure it’s an accident: this stretch of road, familiar to both of us, appears deceptively safe. With long, straight stretches between otherwise mountainous curves, drivers often relax their attentiveness and pick up speed. On the phone with Junior, we let him know we’ve hit a slow-down, but up ahead we can see traffic moving, helping us pinpoint the location of the accident. We should be clear of it and on our way in a couple of minutes.

Not! Ten car lengths from the accident site we come to a dead stop. More conversations with Junior. A sheriff’s patrol car goes by. A fire truck arrives on the scene. We wait. We wait some more. Eventually people start getting out of their cars and walking up to the accident to see what’s going on. Four cars are involved, but there are no fatalities. Everyone becomes friendly. Junior is anxious. We’re three miles from the next exit, and we encourage him to come to that point where there is a shopping plaza, gas stations and fast-food. We hope that by the time he reaches the exit we’ll be on our way again.

No such luck. He needs to buy flowers for the evening so he pops into a store at the designated exit to pick up roses. When he's completed that mission we’re still stuck in traffic. The last resort has presented itself: he drives the three miles farther up the highway until he reaches our location, we cross the median with the garment bag and freshly pressed suit in tow, pass the bag through the window, exchanged hugs and best wishes, and direct him to an alternate route that he can take to get headed back toward Atlanta without getting caught in our traffic. Phew!

Ten minutes later we are finally moving again. The holdup meant that we missed a chance to grab a quick lunch with Junior (we were stopped more than an hour for the accident), but our mission was accomplished and he was on his way to finish putting his plans for the evening in place.

Ah, what we do for love. Of all kinds! Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story.