Remember when we were young, how you asked everyone to marry you?
When my little one, Sander, was young, he went through this odd phase of asking everyone to marry him. And by everyone, I mean everyone. Classmates (both boys and girls), neighbors, teachers, family members.
I remember getting a call one day while he was at school. The teachers apparently had seemed a little worried about his behavior. I assured them it was just a phase.
And I was right. After a couple of days, it stopped.
I asked him over dinner one night.
"Sweetie, was there any reason you stopped asking everyone if they would marry you?"
"Because someone said yes," he replied simply, swallowing a mouthful of broccoli. I raised my eyebrows.
"Really dear? Who was it?" I asked, curious.
"Jenny Kresswell."
"Little Jenny down the street?" He nodded happily.
I laughed and patted his head affectionately.
At the time, I thought it was innocently adorable. Jenny and Sander had been having play dates since they were in diapers. They were as close as a boy and a girl could be at that cootie stage of adolescence.
Jenny was a doll. She had dark brown hair, straight as a pin. Her brown eyes were almond shaped and they always shone with happiness or mischief whenever she and Sander would play together. She loved playing with dolls, but she had nothing against playing with Sander's super hero action figures.
So I didn't give it a single thought that she accepted his "marriage proposal." They were just two kids, playing around.
Twenty years later, I stand in church, tears in my eyes.
Everyone's eyes are trained to the back of the church where little Jenny Cresswell stands, fully grown into a beautiful young woman, but my eyes are on my son.
He looks absolutely dashing in his classic black tuxedo, and his face is absolutely beaming with happiness. The bridal march plays and I know that Jenny is walking down the aisle, her dad by her side, but I just can't take my eyes off my son, so grown up, so happy.
It's hard to believe that it was twenty years ago to the day (Jenny's idea) that a five-year-old Sander asked a five-year-old Jenny to marry her.
Who says fairytales don't come true?