Monday, February 18, 2008
Memorable Valentine’s Day
“Don’t you think we should pull over and let the snow storm pass over us?” It was the third time I’d asked the same question in the past twenty minutes, but my boyfriend just smiled.
“As slow as we’re driving some people might think we’re standing still all ready.” He didn’t look at me, but kept his eyes glued to the winter wonderland in front of us.
How he kept his Pontiac Impala, “the tank”, on the road, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t see the road, just a sea of white.
Being from Texas, I’m used to Valentine’s Day being a cold crisp day with glowing sunshine. No snow, no ice, maybe some rain, but most of the time it’s a beautiful day with love in the air. Hearts and flowers decorate everything.
Did I mention no snow? Or better still never a blizzard?
“How can you see?” I asked, straining to see through the caked-on mud and dirt that covered the windshield. The wipers succeeded in shoving the falling snow off to the side, but the picture in front of us remained a dirty white field of nothingness.
He pressed the button for wiper fluid. Nothing happened.
A large truck traveling in the opposite direction zoomed past us at a break-neck speed of fifteen miles per hour. The window shook. A backlash of muddy water sprayed us with debris from the truck’s wheels. A dark veil fell over the windshield. I couldn’t see anything. My fingers dug into by boyfriend’s thigh.
Did I happen to mention it was cold?
The huge cavernous interior of the car held me prisoner, my only protector, my boyfriend’s calm composure and his steady hands on the wheel. You see, he grew up in the North. This was old hat for him.
“I’m going to pull over. I need to clean the windshield off.” He maneuvered the car to the side of the road. How he even found the side of the road I’ll never know.
My hand caused a few more bruises when the car fishtailed before coming to a stop.
“I’ll be right back.” He opened his car door slowly and left.
Alone, I began to panic. How was he going to clean the windshield off? There wasn’t any water out there. It was all frozen. The wiper fluid was gone.
I watched him out the side window as he picked up snow and threw it at the front window. I jumped when it hit. Did I mention I was terrified?
He wiped the snow over the glass with his gloves. It melted and cleaned the surface. My boyfriend was brilliant, a genius. I knew I loved that man for a reason.
When he walked back around the car and opened his door, he threw his wet gloves in the backseat. I hugged and kissed him, glad that he was back beside me.
He dug in his pocket, pulled out a jewelry box, and handed it to me. I opened it.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
My hero, my savior, the man that held my life in the palm of his hands, wanted to know if I would be his bride.
What do you think I said?
This marks 22 years since he ask me to marry him. And I'd still give him the same answer I did then. He's an incredible guy.