Dating with children
We spent a beautiful day hiking along the southern shore of Caples Lake, near Tahoe, then traced Emigrant Creek to a glacier lake surrounded by the Mokelumne Wilderness peaks. Our kids retreated to their tent with the dog, and my husband and I huddled together in ours.
Our four kids worked together to pitch their tent, and we pitched ours. When the hail stopped, I unzipped the tent to start dinner, and stepped into a puddle a foot deep.
He challenged me to help him with the ropes, and the radio, when we sailed through a squall.
He was not an experienced sailor, but I knew he wouldn’t take unnecessary risks with me on board, and I felt safe in a way I had never felt with another man. I wanted flowers, dancing, compliments, and I told him so.
But I knew that even if nothing changed, he was the man I wanted to marry.
He proposed a few months later, on his knees, with a beautiful diamond ring.
I remember telling my mother about the party; when she asked me if he could be the one. I invited him to join my family reunion in Hawaii at Thanksgiving. Everyone in the family loved him, and so did I, by then, but something told me I should hold off telling him so until he told me, first.
He wasn’t the kind of man to rush into wild romantic gestures and proclamations.
But my son had his tongue up on the roof of his mouth, and he wouldn’t latch on.We lay in our tent after dinner, marking our 20-year anniversary by listening to our kids in the tent next to us playing word games and singing until they finally fell asleep.