DEJA VU

I have run out of daughters.  Let me explain.  I have three.  One has been married long enough to provide us with three “this is what life is all about” granddaughters.  One has exhibited patience beyond belief in her pursuit of Mr. Right and the other has been in a kind of happy, go-with-the-flow holding pattern.  Seemingly circling the airport but in no hurry to land. 

A few weeks ago, documented in a blog called The Secret, the patient one, Romy,  got the down-on-one-knee, moon lit beach, proposal treatment from Mr. Right, Kevinn.  A proposal known to me 2 days in advance but, sworn to secrecy, I could not say anything.  I spent the 2 days avoiding phone calls and not making eye contact with loved ones.  It was torture.  Even though the request for secrecy was over the phone it was the equivalent of a firm handshake, look-me-in-the-eye commitment that no man worth his salt violates.  One of these in a life time is enough, right.  NOT!!

A scant few weeks later the holding pattern one, Molly, was coming by our house for dinner after work.  Her partner in the holding pattern, Marc, was meeting her at our house and had arrived early.  I was sitting in my TV chair cheering on one of my bracket picks in the March Madness pool.  Marc was sitting on the couch.  I noticed he was texting someone.  This is not uncommon in his line of never-off-the-clock work.  After seemingly enough time to write a novel he turned his phone to me to read the text.  Here is what I read:

     I've been wanting to ask you for your blessing on asking Molly for her hand in marriage but everyone is always around. It would be a honor to have your blessing. I don't want anyone else knowing please once again another secret.

Thanks

 

Marc Denny

Before I could get to the part about “another secret” I jumped up, gave Marc a fist bump and a hug, then turned to tell Terry, who was nearby preparing dinner.  Before I could get out a word Marc held his finger to his lips in the universal sign to keep quiet.  Marc whispered that two days hence, on Easter Sunday, they would make a formal announcement. 

Shortly thereafter Molly arrived, my team won and we had a delightful dinner.  All the time I am looking my life partner and my own flesh and blood in the eye and not divulging my secret.  And there are 2 more days to go.  This is inhumane. 

Flash forward to Easter Sunday.  Following a spirited Easter egg hunt we all sit down for a spectacular dinner hosted by Molly’s sister Erin and her husband, our resident chef James.  Someone asked me to say a blessing before dinner.  Immediately after I finished Marc, spoke up.  Being across the room I could not hear what he said but suddenly everyone was cheering and screaming with excitement.  Hugs and kisses followed.  Once free, Molly worked her way over to me and we hugged.  She was as radiant, content and happy as I have ever seen her.  Life is good.  No more secrets.