Reserved for MarriagePosted: March 11, 2012
I stepped off the plane into the muggy, murky night, the buildings purple and gold and green with neon-bright light, the people yelling loudly in a language that I struggled to believe was really composed of words, not just the high voices of hen-pecking wives. At the airport, I found friends, or people who I would soon know as such. One of them, a tall and slender Asian girl with near-perfect English, walked me to my new apartment, a two-bedroom nest on the 19th floor of a busy downtown complex. This friend, three years older than me to the day, helped me find my way in a new country, cared for me when I couldn’t speak, ordered for me when I didn’t know what to eat, shared her wisdom when I didn’t know what to do.
A year and a half ago, Michael and I stepped off the plane again in our new-old city, a place familiar but always changing. We met a boy, kind and caring and good-hearted as anyone I’ve ever known. Although a bit older than us, this time he was the one who was learning how to speak and what to eat and where to go. We saw each other nearly every day, shared meals and struggles and laughter.
This boy and this girl, Ross and Christie, met each other and quickly took like. (On his side, at least.) After months of waiting, they finally had their first date on this night. I’m not sure who was in a more giddy state—the newly engaged couple or the newly dating one.
Where we live, the word you use to make reservations at a hotel or restaurant is the same word that is used for engagement. When two people make formal plans to get married, they are considered “reserved for marriage.” This Friday night, Ross made his and Christie’s plans official.
We couldn’t be happier.
The newly engaged couple! Ross had us organize a surprise party for Christie after the proposal.
I think she loved it.
Re-telling the proposal story. Ross asked Christie to marry him in the kitchen of her apartment, where he first asked her out nearly a year ago.
Old friends, and good ones. (Shannon is the mom who was brave/crazy enough to let Michael hold her newest one, little William.)
Dearly love this precious friend, and couldn’t be happier for her.
You had to know you were going to see at least a few of the decorations…
Sarah and I, the official Party Planning Committee of, well, our circle. We love a good shindig! (And what on earth will I do without her next year?)