They Said, "Yes!"

I'm not the sentimental type. 

To me The Hallmark Channel is just lazy storytelling set to forgettable music with wardrobe out of Coldwater Creek or L.L. Bean, depending on the time of year.

You will not find a single romance novel on my shelves or in my Kindle; in fact, if the phrase "smile that made his eyes crinkle" shows up within the first 15 pages, I will physically throw the book away. EYES DON'T FREAKIN' CRINKLE, BRENDA! If they're crinkling, you need to get the dude to an ER, not "feel my heart skip a beat."

The fact is, I've grown into a rather cynical old broad and, quite frankly, after a year of being an "essential employee" (not essential like healthcare professionals, but essential like the pizza delivery guy -- both essential, but one gets praised in Facebook memes and the other gets coughed on by anti-vaxers), I've become downright bitter.

I think the pandemic took the perkiness out of the sunniest dispositions. But, honestly, you only have to spend a few minutes scrolling social media to know the world is filled with discontentment and skepticism.

Then this weekend, this happened:

That's my son Charley getting down on one knee and proposing marriage to Sarah at Longwood Gardens.

I might add that I was not there. I did know he'd planned it, but I didn't know when.

John and me (ca. 1972)

When he told me his plans, I was nostalgically touched; for generations Longwood Gardens has been our place to visit, no matter where we lived. There are photos of my family at the garden dating back over half a century. If there is anything such as "ancestral lands" for my family, Longwood would be it. 

I was envious. When I was 12, I decided I was going to own Longwood Gardens. Not only was I going to own Longwood Gardens, but there was going to be a guy who was damn well going to propose to me there and I was going to make sure he knew where it should happen and how I wanted it done.

Turns out Longwood wasn't for sale so there went that plan.

Gazebo where -- admit it
 -- if you went to Longwood,
you were adamant that jerk Rolf
was going to dance with you in.

I have to admit, I shuddered for Charley when he told me his plans. Longwood is so crowded in the summer. I envisioned him trying to get the proposal out as a six-year-old streaks by and some old lady wanders cluelessly between them. 

But I also know that, while this seemed like the biggest event now, there are so many landmark moments before him, a bungled proposal would become no more than an amusing anecdote around the after dinner table for the two of them. But, still -- a mother worries.

Charley called me the Sunday evening after he proposed and said he was sending pictures.

I asked if he had thought to bring a friend along to document the moment.

"This proposal is well documented," he assured me.

The photo above -- taken by a bystander. The documentation Charley spoke of was all from complete strangers.

Wait.

What?

That's right. Complete strangers stopped to watch and document an occasion that occurs every day, millions of times, over and over, since forever. These angry, divided, disheartened humans stopped their personal experience of the day to watch two people they didn't even know, decide to commit to each other.

Seriously -- was no one going to shout out, "Just trying to pay less taxes by filing jointly" or "Marriage is a device of the patriarchy?"

Nope.

For a moment...for just that moment...life was the simplest thing in the world: two people in love taking their first scary, shaky steps together into their future.

And for a moment...for just that moment...an entire conservatory full of disparate individuals came together, dropped their jaundiced view of the world, and recognized the purity and poignancy of the moment.

A couple couldn't ask for a greater mitzvah, if I may respectfully borrow a term.

That was enough to make this bitter old lady do something she's never done in her entire life -- I happy cried.

And I couldn't stop. 

I see the photos and I start right back up again. Especially when I remember that the guy in this photo:

Is the same boy in this photo:

BUT I AM IN NO WAY SENTIMENTAL, do you hear me!