10-10-75

In 1975, Greg and I were young kids anxious to taste the world and flee as far away from our parents as we could. Both of us, being first born within our respective families, were naturally adventurous and fearless (read: dumb and reckless). Thank goodness for youth and optimism.

We never anticipated getting married. In fact, it was the furthest thing from our minds when we started dating. I had won scholarships to three different universities, and Greg was already neck-deep studying space science at the Florida Institute of Technology.

Fate stepped in. Greg accepted a job at a chemical plant and the next thing I knew, the chemical corporation decided to move the plant from Chicago to Texas! Holy tumbleweeds!

The only thing I knew about Texas was that I was born there. Chicago had been home for as long as I could remember. Texas was nothing more than a peculiar, little footnote about myself that I could mention to my Yankee born friends for chuckles.

Greg did the guy thing first. He asked if I wanted to live with him (in sin! lol). I had to remind him I was a good Catholic girl who was really more afraid of my parents than the pope. I declined.

Then he did the honorable thing. He took me shopping--for a ring.

I was too young and too shy to tell him that I would have rather had something more practical. We could have bought some substantial furniture for what that rock cost him. But this was my first engagement ring and Greg, well, he’s a bit of a romantic. He really wanted to give me this ring.

I scanned all the pretty baubles, horrified at the prices and trying to keep my eyes from bugging out. Greg was incredibly calm. He must’ve known even then that I would never pick out anything extravagant, so he just hung back and let me browse.

He put the ring on installment and made regular payments every Friday when he got paid. The store was outside the city and he made that long arduous commute to the burbs like clockwork.

When he had made the final payment, he picked up the ring and took me out for a bite to eat. We were poor as most young people were, so we stopped at McDonald’s. Before we went in to eat, he surprised me when he dropped down to one knee. (Yes, ladies, men still do that!)

I don’t know what got into me, but I was so shocked and nervous, I almost said: no. But there he was, looking up at me, saying those magic words. My insides turned into mush.

To this day, I’m not sure what I said. LOL! But I guess it must have been, yes, because today marks our 32nd anniversary.

Next year, maybe I’ll tell you how he asked my father for my hand in marriage. Yup, we still howl about that one.

Happy anniversary, hon. It’s been an adventure and a half. Glad I said, yes.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Aw, congrats to you and Greg, Maria! What a wonderful story. *sniff* Might have to immortalise mine too (which is so totally different) when we have our 9th later this month.

Thanks for sharing the story. It made me all gooey inside.
Maria Zannini said…
I like to think I'm crusty with a soft marshmallow center. lol

Thanks!
Mike Keyton said…
Happy Anniversary, you two.
Mike.
Anonymous said…
Happy annivesary, Maria. All credit and joy to you both.

daw
Happy anniversary to both of you!
Maria Zannini said…
Thanks, Sandra! It goes by fast.
Maya Reynolds said…
Sorry I missed your anniversary yesterday.

Hope you and Greg will have another 32 years together.

With love,

Maya
rcloenen-ruiz said…
Congrats on your anniversary, Maria. And sorry for missing out on the day. May you have many more years together in good health and good success :)
Maria Zannini said…
Amen to the good health. lol

You have no idea how important that becomes.

Thanks for the good wishes, Rochita!
Heather Moore said…
Very sweet ;) Happy anniversary!
Maria Zannini said…
Thank you, Heather! It's been a good run so far.