We're Getting Married!

It really all started before we ever moved to Montana. Jared had talked about leaving Florida for a while; his grandparents were born and raised in Montana, and they were ready to move back home. So they packed up their things and headed west. Jared told me he wanted to be closer to them, and I thought that was great, until I realized I didn’t want him to go without me. So I asked if I could come along, and a year later we were packing up to start a new chapter together. Naturally, people started asking when we were going to get engaged, since moving across the country is a big step. Jared told me I had one condition before I could get my ring: I had to survive a Montana winter and experience all four seasons. I think to everyone’s surprise, in a good way, this Florida girl not only survived the snow, but learned to love it. I designed my ring and showed Jared what I wanted. We ended up going to Barnes Jewelry in Helena, the same place his grandparents got their rings over 50 years ago. We’d originally planned to order it online, but Jared wanted something that would last. If it were up to him, I wouldn’t have known a single detail. He told me afterward that he’d been planning the proposal for over a year, and that his best friend, Clayton, was the only person who knew until it was time. He even picked up photography as a hobby over the summer so I wouldn’t think twice about him setting up a tripod. Picture this: it’s early morning in Glacier National Park. The sun’s just finished rising, everything is golden and crisp, and I haven’t had any coffee yet. We hike up to Hidden Lake Overlook, which was stunning, but Jared said it didn’t quite feel like the spot yet, since there were too many people. We decided go the extra mile, literally, hiking down to the lake itself. When we reached the shore, we had a private beach all to ourselves. I, exhausted and snack-deprived, immediately lay down on the rocks and pulled out a protein bar. Meanwhile, Jared quietly set up the tripod and started recording. This was it, his moment. Three minutes go by, then five, then ten. Finally, he decides he needs to get me up. So he hands me a few rocks and says, “Here, go skip these, they look like good ones.” I do as I’m told, but I keep turning around mid-throw to keep talking to him, how dare I! Finally, I stay turned long enough for him to get down on one knee. I turn around mid-sentence, and there he is, asking, “Will you marry me?” Of course I said yes! Then, in my excitement, I immediately grab the ring from him, and he just laughs and says, “I think I’m supposed to do that.” So I hand it back and let him finish properly. Bless his heart, he was such a good sport. We sat by the lake for a bit, soaking in the moment and the view. Without service in the park, we were the only ones who knew. Well, us, the mountain goats, and a couple of friendly strangers on the hike back to the parking lot. Two older guys on a motorcycle trip asked if we made it all the way down, and I showed them my ring, saying, “This was my reward for hiking down without coffee!” They congratulated us and gave us some marriage advice: “Be gentle.” When we left Glacier the next morning, our phones finally lit up with messages full of love and support from friends and family who had been in on the plan. And that’s the story, a little adventure, a lot of love, and one very good man with a tripod.