Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

I’m moving.

And moving, as you may know, just plain sucks.

I’m past the point of meticulous organization and box labeling, and have resorted to throwing all non-breakables into oversized blue Ikea bags. For a moment by my closet I pause. The bedroom is a mess. My shoes are everywhere.  It’s déjà vu all over again.

I’ve thought this before. I stood in this very place, looked down at a smiling, earnest face, a man on one knee, holding a ring.

And my initial thought at that moment was this: The bedroom is a mess. My shoes are everywhere. He’s proposing and my shoes are EVERYWHERE.

For the first time in my life I was speechless.

An antique ring in a black velvet box. A man on one knee. Shoes everywhere. Nine months later my heart still flutters at the memory.

Four simple words: Will You Marry Me.

A turning point – I guess this is growing up.