It Started With a Proposal, Hypothetically
Sandy & Garrett - January 2010
Two people walk into a bar.
Both dressed in formal holiday attire, they order Cadillac margaritas.
The woman is wearing a short black sweater dress with a drop collar exposing her shoulders.
In a tan camel-hair coat, the man’s blue eyes sparkle as the couple warm from the frost of a cold Nebraska night.
The woman sips from her straw, stirring in the salt from the glass rim while she playfully asks the man a question.
“Hypothetically, if you could, would you marry me?”
The man thinks for a moment and then gives a confident answer.
“Yes, I would marry you.”
The man then removes his coat as the woman orders chips and salsa. The conversation moves from marriage to planning the rest of their weekend together.
Garrett loves to tell this story.
How I was the one who proposed to him. How we had just started dating when I popped my hypothetical question. Add in the setting of a bar and a marriage proposal between two people who barely knew each other; it does make for a good story.
Our perceived reality that cold weekend in Nebraska was that we were soulmates. We met through chance and shared similar life circumstances. Just meeting three months prior and living 550 miles apart, the reality was that we barely knew each other, only meeting in person four times before my bar proposal. But as in all good love stories, our reality was golden in the moment.
The real marriage proposal came four years later, seated in the same bar at our favorite Mexican restaurant in the dead of winter. Cadillac margaritas and chips were ordered, but this time, I received the proposal. A ring was given, and a wedding followed a few weeks later.
As Garrett loves to share the story of my hypothetical proposal, I love to share the story of our quick engagement. Once we chose to marry, in less than a month, we pulled together a simple wedding with a nice reception.
My whirlwind wedding planning went into motion over a 5:30 am run with friends and running companions, Tam and Kristi. Running together for over ten years, they had mentored me through my divorce. As we traversed through the dark, snowy Nebraska streets, I now asked for their advice on a wedding venue.
“Do you know of any places other than the courthouse where we can get married? It would be nice to have something cozy with a fireplace.”
Without any hesitation, Tam offered her home.
“We have a fireplace!”
Following some convincing from the ever-generous Tam that a wedding in her home was not an inconvenience, the stage was set. I then secured a small social hall close by for a reception to follow. Instead of invites, I posted on FaceBook inviting all my friends. Then, our unconventional wedding was set with texts sent to those Omaha friends not on FaceBook.
Nothing about Garrett and my relationship had been conventional. Starting with my proposal three months into our courtship to long-distance travel over the next four years, we were light years from the conventional lives we once lived.
Racking up frequent flyer miles and gaining Southwest A-List Preferred status, we flew back and forth from Denver to Omaha and Omaha to Denver. Every other weekend, one of us would fly to the other, with Garrett raising his kids in Denver and me with mine in Omaha. In addition to our children, we each had established businesses and professions in our home cities.
From the first day Garrett and I laid our starry eyes on each other; we were surrounded by both skepticism and support. Neither of us had the personality of one to dive into a long-distance relationship. By nature, we were very conventional rule followers.
We lived mirroring lives in our first forty years before knowing each other. Both finished college in four years and then immediately married our college sweethearts. Careers and children were carefully planned. Goals were set and met. By our early forties, both Garrett and I were basking in our achievements, following a scripted timeline put in front of us.
And then life happened and threw our plans into a nose dive.
Neither of us planned on divorcing in middle age. Put on our heels, we both fought this unexpected life event. In hindsight, our fight was more against a plan gone astray than the marriage itself. As in most significant life wake-up calls, Garrett and I learned that this type of relationship planning did not have a high success factor.
My divorce attorney’s parting words to me were that I would be just fine. He assured me that I would likely remarry as my personality was a traditionalist. He was ultimately correct on remarriage, but the means to get there came in the most untraditional way. Garrett from Denver came into my life.
Standing by a lit fireplace in the beautiful home of Tam and her husband, Phil, Garrett and I exchanged vows while surrounded by a handful of close family and friends. It was so different from our traditional first marriage ceremonies - well-planned with lengthy guest lists and performed by priests in churches. This ceremony was by a judge, a friend of mine who coincidentally was also the judge in my divorce, a fact that neither of us discussed when our friendship later blossomed.
My last-minute FaceBook post and spread-the-word method of a wedding announcement resulted in a hundred people stopping by our little reception to share their good wishes. There was no gift table, but friends provided wonderful music, food, and drink. My black and white striped wedding dress was purchased the day prior off of a sale rack and was more appropriate for a dinner party than a wedding. I later donated the dress to Goodwill as I couldn’t envision wearing it for anything else. I hoped it would bring good karma to its next owner.
After the last guest left our reception, Garrett and I helped clean up and headed back to my Omaha home. Our wedding night was as nontraditional as the ceremony. We had our combined kids at my house, plus a couple of their friends who spent the night. In the early dark hours of the next morning, Garrett drove his kids back to Denver in time for their weekend activities.
And so began the rhythm of our new married life, raising our kids across states. This long-distance, unconventional way of living lasted for our first seven years together.
January 3, 2024, marked the tenth anniversary of our marriage by the fireplace. Most years, Garrett and I forget to celebrate on the actual day, verifying on calendars whether we were married on the third or the fourth of January. Typically, we also need to verify the number of years married, as neither seems to remember the year of our union.
The biggest anniversary for us is when we met. There was our life before each other and then these fourteen years of togetherness.
The years since our marriage have included selling our long-term businesses and pivoting our careers. Our kids have graduated from high school and now live across the country. Garrett sold his Denver home and moved to Omaha in 2017, a beginning of living full-time together.
Now empty-nesters, we are comfortably nestled in Durango, Colorado. All the planes and life juggling now feel like a distant memory.
No one in Durango is too concerned about our back story, and few know of our dual-home past. Questions don’t center on our children or prior careers but on our favored outdoor activity and whether we have a dog.
As an active older couple living in the Colorado mountains, we have comfortably molded back into conventional living. Our beginning story has become history, a wild ride to arrive at our desired destination.
This unconventional ride has built us into who we are today - a couple never taking our time together for granted. We may not always buy each other gifts on the scripted holidays, but I am gifted a fresh flower bouquet weekly, exchanging random cards and gifts throughout the year when it strikes us.
As for our tenth-anniversary celebration, we opted for margaritas at our favorite Mexican restaurant in Durango. Catching up on life, we enjoyed discussing what we looked forward to in our next year together. But we are well-schooled in accepting tomorrow's unknowns. Life is a series of possibilities spun together by choice. These choices create our narrative of today.
Hypothetically…following a predetermined script would just be a bit too predictable.
Our life today in Durango (a different kind of dressing up). Cheers!
