Our Love Story
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Preparation on the plane ride
I had just fastened my seat belt. Before I turned off my cell phone, I wanted to text-message Amy one more time. I was hesitant to call her because I knew she was running errands with her mother. No need in stirring up the hornet's nest unnecessarily.

So I typed, "Just boarded the flight. About to take off. Can't wait to see you. I love you!"

After I hit send, I noticed that I had a voicemail. It was from John. "Well Adam, I guess you're about to take off. Just wanted to congratulate you and Amy on your upcoming engagement. I'm very happy for you." Very sweet.

Throughout the flight, I wrote down detailed notes of everything I wanted to remember to tell her parents. At one point, I was having difficulty finding the Biblical verse which affirmed the importance that God played in the success of any marriage -- "a cord of three strands is not easily broken" -- referring to God, husband and wife.

I turned to the gentleman to my left, sitting at the window, and asked, "Are you a Christian?"

"No. I'm Jewish," he said, looking a little annoyed.

"Perfect. The verse I'm looking for is in the Old Testament," I said hoping that he could help me track it down. "Are you familiar with the verse which says, "a cord of three strands is not easily broken"?

"I might be Jewish. But I'm not very familiar with the Scriptures."

"Okay. No problem. Thanks anyway," I said

I finally found it in Ecclesiastes 4, no thanks to my concordance which had been inadequate to the task.

As I looked over my outline, reading it through under my breath a couple of times, I noticed something was glaringly absent. I never actually asked for their blessing to marry Amy. That would be like going in for a job interview and never asking for the job. I wanted to make sure I "asked for the girl."

So I wrote that in right at the top in case my nerves got the better of me at the time.

The airport pick-up
This was the big moment. I hadn't seen Amy for 18 months. And now I was about to ask for her hand in marriage within the hour. (Just your run-of-the-mill love story.)

I followed the signs to baggage claim. I dialed her on my cell phone.

"Hellooo luscious."

Amy just laughed. "Well, I'm nervous. How 'bout you?"

"Not at all. It's just a typical day for me. What are you talking about?"

"So, where are you right now?" she asked, her voice heavy with anticipation.

"I'm walking toward the escalators near baggage claim."

"You're kidding. I'm stepping on the escalator at baggage claim."

"Peeps. I'm going to see you in a matter of seconds." I said.

It was like something out of the movies. A moment filled with drama and intrigue.

When we saw one another, we both clicked off our cell phones and just basked in the presence of the other. She was wearing a maroon velvet jacket over a blue shirt with jeans. Her hair was just as beautiful as ever, lazy brunette curls cascading down her shoulders and back. She was wearing some long dangly earrings -- my favorite. The makeup was perfect. Her smile was half-mischievous, half-sexy.

"I don't remember you being so tall." Not exactly the most romantic words that Amy's ever uttered. Our 10 and a half inch height disparity is perhaps the first thing people notice about us upon initial examination.

"Wow! You're more beautiful than I remember," I said. At that moment, the sign might have said Dallas Airport. But, as far as I was concerned, I was in Heaven -- reunited with the love of my life, the woman who would soon become my wife.

I bent down to kiss her and hold her close. It felt good to have Amy Holzer back in my arms. Her velvet jacket was smooth, her perfume was sweet, but our kiss was a tad awkward and rusty - nothing a little practice couldn't change.

As she pulled back, she asked, "Why are you wearing a suit?"

"It's an important occasion. So I dressed accordingly."

"Okay. That makes sense," she said, nodding her head.

I could hardly believe we were a couple again -- not just a dating couple, but a soon-to-be engaged couple.

As we walked toward baggage claim together, the nerves on my right hand seemed to be especially sensitive as I slid my hand into her soft, petite left hand. My thumb caressed her skin back and forth. I gave her hand a light squeeze, indicating that I was simply delighted to be back in her life, this time permanently, never to leave again.

Continued >> Thumbs up or thumbs down from Amy's parents?

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