Last Thanksgiving, we traveled to Iceland (they have the best cranberry sauce). We spent five amazing days driving through the country exploring waterfalls, geysers, frozen beaches, hot springs, and horseback riding on a black-sand beach following a snowstorm. Unbeknownst to Oliver, M J. had been working behind the scenes with one of Oliver’s best friends from high school to make an engagement ring after having asked Oliver’s dad for his blessing to marry his son the month before in Hawaii. There was a plan. For the middle part of the trip, we stayed in the Golden Circle at a hotel about 15 miles from the main road – the middle of nowhere. Each day we left to explore and we drove, or car-skated, along a dirt path that wove through the mountains, forests, and passed along a beautiful glacier lake with steel-blue waters and a small black lava beach. Both of us connected to this lake and thought that it was one of the most stunningly beautiful things we had seen. So...on the last day of our stay at the hotel, on the drive out to Reykjavik, M J. suggested we stop on the side of the road and check out “our” lake and the beach. We stood on the edge of the water in the 25-degree air without a soul in sight. Cue the moment. M J. got the ring out of his pocket (it had been in his pocket for days, waiting for the right time), got down on one knee, told Oliver that he loved him, and asked if he would marry him. At that point, the slow-motion/black-out seconds kicked in…but Oliver said yes. The moment was magical, beautiful, and just us.