On July 3, 2011, I overslept.
I suppose he knew for sure at about 9:45am that I had no clue what was planned. It was about that time that I was officially about to miss my Sunday yoga class, the first stop on a scavenger hunt that would eventually lead me all the way from Maryland to Oregon.
When I did finally drag my (hung over from a birthday party the night before) butt out of bed I discovered a hydrangea, a camera, and this note.
After I died, I called him. He wouldn’t answer, but texted me to continue on to my first destination anyway. Shaking, I cleaned myself up and headed out the door.
He wasn’t kidding, the hunt really did last the whole day. I visited the place we had our first kiss, our first home together, our favorite places… I told the through-hikers at the AT Visitor Center in Harper’s Ferry about my hunt and snapped their picture… I snapped my own picture too… I cried at least ten times.
At the end of the day, he gave me my final clue. It was an address.
Walking to the restaurant I knew he would be there. I was shaking, wondering how he would propose. Would it just be him? Would others be there too? Would he be down on one knee the second I saw him?
I arrived at the restaurant and asked for the “Olson” party, as I’d been instructed. Still shaking, I was led to a table. I looked for him…
What I saw, when my eyes finally focused, were my three best girlfriends with a bottle of wine and another note!
I think the poor things might have been a little scared. What kind of reaction was I going to have after all that buildup?! To be honest, though, I loved seeing them there. I loved him even more for including them.
We had an amazing dinner.
The note told me to pack my bags. His brother would be by our house early the next morning to take me to the airport. I was already checked in for my flight to Oregon… my home.
The rest is kind of a blur. I packed my bags, including my iPod, which was missing and mysteriously reappeared with a personalized playlist of love songs for the long ride. I made it to the airport in plenty of time. When I arrived in Portland, a town car took me to our favorite hotel. When I opened the door to our room, I heard The Ramones, “Baby, I Love You.” He didn’t miss a single detail.
On the dresser, next to “Baby, I Love You,” was my final clue. It sent me to Powell’s, just around the corner, for a book on Frank Lloyd Wright… and there he was. He led me to the waterfront… he got down on one knee… and he asked. It was like a dream.
That night we had another amazing dinner, and the next day we celebrated in wine country with my family. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around just how amazing it all was. I will never top this… I think I might be marrying the most romantic man in the world.
