So, here’s the engagement story. Let me warn you it’s a looooong one. A couple weeks ago Charles told me he had Friday morning off from school and that he’d like to have breakfast with me. He’d like to watch the sunrise and eat breakfast with me to be precise. I (somewhat reluctantly) agreed to meet him outside my apt at 5:30am Friday August 22nd 2008 to go watch the sunrise, then come back home and commence with a normal Friday. Little did I know what I was in for that day.
5:00 rolled around and I got up, dressed and fussed about my “stupid tennis shoes” that I couldn’t find for the life of me. I settled for my purple crocs in the end. When I was ready to head out I knocked on Kim’s door (she’s my fantastic roommate) and woke her up like I promised I would so she could go running. Then I ran downstairs because I promised I wouldn’t be late. When I got to the door I started smiling and waving to Charles and then stopped dumbstruck by a limo parked in front of my apartment where I thought there’d be a motorcycle. While my brain struggled to process the fact, two camera’s held by two of Charles’ bible study members clicked away. I’m not sure I want to see those pictures. I got into the limo (I think I hugged Charles first, I’m not sure now) and called Kim. I stuttered something about sitting in a limo and she excitedly asked if she could come see. I recovered my senses enough to ask her to bring my camera down. At this point I figured I was taking a limosine ride to breakfast and back to the apartment and eventually my day would normalize; probably once I got to work. Wrong.
When Kim appeared she brought more than my camera. She had my backpack and an extremely overstuffed duffle bag (which contained the stupid tennis shoes that I couldn’t find). “Here, you’ll need these too.” Again, my poor 5:40am brain struggled to comprehend the meaning of two pieces of luggage. Clearly I wasn’t going to work today. I asked Charles (rather pointlessly) if he had called Bridget (my boss). To which he answered yes and that I apparently had the day off. And as we began to drive, I began to tic off possible weekend destinations in my head. I tentatively settled on Taipei as the most likely answer, and was rewarded by our arrival at the High Speed Rail, the fastest way to get to Taipei from Kaohsiung. Wrong again!
My next in a very long series of surprises was that we got off the train one stop earlier than I anticipated, at the airport rather than downtown Taipei. Here I began to panic mildly. I was clearly about to leave the country when I hadn’t even planned on leaving Kaohsiung! What’s more Charles wouldn’t tell me where we were actually going. He was compassionate and sweet, but very firm on the fact that he wanted this to be a surprise for as long as he could keep it that way. I was torn between the pressing, anxious desire to know (and therefore have some semblance of control) and the desire to enjoy the element of surprise for his sake. Eventually it became clear at the gate that we were headed to the Philippines! So much for Taipei.
When we got off the plane we were met by the Hotel Resort’s pick up service. I knew at this point that he was going to ask me to marry him some time over the course of the weekend. You might think that most of the surprises were over by this point in time, but that would be a wrong assumption. A van ride, a boat ride, and a truck ride later found us at the Nami Resort Hotel. Rio and Toni showed me around a beautiful room/living room, balcony, and jacuzzi. Then I turned around
to discover the next surprise, my friend Katie!! Charles had sent ahead our own private chaperone (aka “lightbulb” in Chinese slang)! Katie brought me up to speed on all the planning and scheming that had been going on for 2 weeks behind my back. I got a quick shower, but then Katie and I had to go off to our 6:30pm massage appointment! There are no words to describe how relaxing my first full massage left me. Limp noodle is close, but it doesn’t quite convey the full force of the feeling. So, relaxed but still in a strange state of shock and euphoria, I made my way back to the room to change for dinner. The kind suggestion was made that I wear the one and only dress I own, which had made its sneaky way into my duffle bag.
So, in my dress I found my way to my flower strewn and candle bedecked balcony. Music was playing from a CD player inside the sliding door. The hotel staff brought up delicious food, but I don’t remember what it was. I also don’t remember much of what we talked about to be honest, except that there was a pretty wood box about four inches long and two wide that I couldn’t open until after dessert. It seemed like a long time until dessert! It finally came though, and I was told I could open the box. I discovered two rows of little bottles inside with corks in the tops numbered one to eight. Charles smiled and told me that they were eight of the reasons he loved me, so go ahead and start at number one. I read one through seven before he stopped me and told me that there was something he wanted to do.
He pushed his chair back and pulled over a bowl of water and a small towel…some of you know what’s coming next, but some of you need explanation. The night before Jesus gave up his life for us on the cross he washed the feet of his twelve followers to demonstrate how we are supposed to love and serve each other. Charles gently washed and dried my feet…at which point I started crying. When he finished he tapped the glass lightly and the song on the CD player switched to “The Book of Love” (Peter Gabriel for those of you who want to know) and he told me I could read the last reason he loved me. It said “You’re not perfect, but you’re the perfect one for me.” Tied to the bottle was a tiny object wrapped in paper. He untied and unwrapped my great-grandmother’s diamond ring and knelt to say that he loved me, wanted to serve and take care of me…and asked me if I would marry him. He got a tearful, but firm “yes!” in answer!
