The difinitive call

I said I would tell you what happened over the summer. Well, the miraculous. It was two months into my being at home with my family, with about a month to go. God had really shaped our friendship during those summer months. Only having the phone to hang out with really makes those conversations worthwhile. As much as we didn't like it, that time was good for us to be apart. It made us realize just how far we had come so fast, and how much we truely appreciated and enjoyed each other's company. I'm tempted to say that all relationships should have this period of separation, to see if the togetherness will stand up to the test. It may shed a clear light on things that are better left discarded, or worth holding onto with all your might.

So it was the middle of June, and I was babysitting. Megan and Benjie had come up to Loveland for a wedding, and the girls needed to be looked after for the afternoon. Who wouldn't want to watch those two? God bless those little rays of sunny delight! So I was watching the girls. I put them down for a nap, and hopped on the internet to waste the day away. And Mike called. SIGH! How I love that man! No, seriously, ask my family. I was such a sad puppy all summer. They deserve a medal for putting up with me that way.

I stepped out into the hallway to be able to talk, and left the door cracked open to listen. We began talking, the usual, light hearted stuff. Work, the weather, that we had been thinking about eachother. Sadie decided to wake up just as our conversation was getting more personal. I had to bring her out with me so she wouldn't wake Lily, but didn't have a whole lot for her to do. We walked around the building, stuck our feet in the pool, and ended up sitting outside the room again, where she proceeded to rip apart three different brochures into tiny little peices. Mike and I were talking about our friendship and how we thought things were going. And without warning (or meaning to), I dropped a bomb on him. "Wait, what?" he interupted. "What do you mean, what?" I was confused. "Did you just say you wanted to marry me?"

Now, we had already had this conversation. About a month and a half before that. Here were my exact words:
"I want to laugh, cry, plan, dream, have kids, and work with you, for the rest of my life."
Now, to me, that's pretty clear. But apparently I needed to clarify.

"Michael Dombrowski, I want to be your wife within the year."
Silence.
"Wow."
I started laughing. "I already told you that!"
"Not in those exact words! I just... Wow."

I'm still laughing. I thought of that this week as we are going through marriage counciling with Mark. Communication, even between people who want to be clear always and never missunderstood, can be muddled. I told him that first night that I wear my heart on my sleeve, and how well he knows it. He strives to always keep me informed and to never be vauge, which I appreciate. Mind games have no place within a marriage, and playing the guessing game is neither fun nor fair to either spouse. Things placed out on the table, out in the open, are the ones that get dealt with in the best manner. I appreciate Mike's honesty in all things, even when it's hard for me to hear. But I try very hard to approach every discussion with an open heart, and the understanding that Mike loves me very much, and is not criticizing me. Does that make things easier to hear? No, especially when he's right. But it does make me pause and take a deep breath, and approach the conversation without my defenses up and a wall in place. He's my partner in this walk, not my adversary.

"Don't you want to marry me?" I asked, trying to hide the grin in my voice.
"Well, YEAH, but I wasn't sure where you were at!"

So, in the middle of June, in the heat of the day, by the cool of the pool-wait...- we decided. This was it. We were getting married.