Telling the Truth

January 1963. My friends think I’m coming back from Christmas break engaged. Instead, I come back more than a little self-conscious. There’s nothing worse than explaining what didn’t happen. Friends are kind and understanding. But no shrieks and squeals of delight.

Spring classes begin. David (D) is counting down until he graduates and goes off into the wild blue yonder without me. What if he leaves without asking me to marry him? Given his long list of reasons not to propose marriage yet, I can’t imagine what it will take to convince him I’m a safe-enough risk.

Life goes on pretty much as usual, though I feel a bit anxious. Time is flying by. Spring break arrives. During the first 10 days of break, D and I go on our last choir tour together before he graduates.

Then we have about 5 days left before classes resume. D comes to visit me again in Savannah. One day we drive to Tybee Island with another Bible college couple. The weather is still cool, so it’s not crowded. We decide to go for a walk on the beach. Our friends walk one way, we walk the other.

After a while D stops, picks up a stick and draws a big heart on the sand. He draws an arrow through the heart. Then he writes on the heart. I can’t remember whether it was ‘I love you,’ or our initials. Whatever it was, it was sweet and very D-like to do this.

Then we start back toward the car. D suggests we sit down on one of the beach jetties. We still have some time before we have to be back to the car.

What did we talk about? I don’t remember. I only remember that D finally asked me to marry him and I said Yes!

I was expecting this, but was still surprised. Where was his index card? How had he resolved all his questions? He didn’t say a word about any of this.

Later I asked what happened to change his mind. He grinned sheepishly. He showed his pastor the list, and they had a heart to heart talk. His Wise Pastor asked him what he was waiting for—lightning to strike? D didn’t have a good answer.

While we’re at the beach, D apologizes for not having an engagement ring to give me. That’s OK with me. I want to have my say about what it looks like. But I’m thrilled he intends to buy me an engagement ring. He has, in fact, already saved money to pay for it.

When we get back to campus, we go to several shops to look at rings. I find out my ring size. D orders the ring. I fully expect to have it before D graduates. After all, he won’t be around during my senior year, but at least I’ll have a gorgeous ring to look at and show to my friends.

Well, I didn’t receive the ring before he graduated. The money intended for the ring went to a good cause. I would get the ring later, after D saved up more money and after he was gone. It would be a while. It was the first time I’d felt upset and disheartened. We got through it, and I received the engagement ring via registered mail during my senior year.

Looking back, I see things I missed or minimized about D and me. I knew we weren’t peas in a pod. I didn’t see, however, that the differences were heavy-duty important. Not insurmountable, but not easy, either.

D graduated at the end of the academic year. We announced our engagement on commencement day. During that summer I visited D at his home for a week or so. At the end of my visit I bid D a sad, teary goodbye. He drove off to the West Coast where he’d been accepted by another college for a second bachelor’s degree. We didn’t know when we would get married, or when we would see each other again.

Stay tuned for one more installment.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 15 March 2015