I sat next to Meghan on the hockey bleachers. We were cold. Very cold. Very very very cold. Burrowed under a purple sleeping bag, cradling our cups of mint hot chocolate (Meghan makes a mean hot chocolate!), and trying to stay awake to watch the game. It was 11:30pm and it was finally about to begin. She cheered for her man. Gasped when he fell (which, of course, wasn’t often) and complimented his fashion sense (I don’t know if he heard her…but everyone else did :-P). Hockey uniforms are…unique. (This from the non-hockey fan, mind you.)
After the game, we were walking toward the exit when Jason came out of the dressing room on a quick errand, still in full gear, and walked in step with her for a minute. She reached out, gave his hand a squeeze, smiled up at him. The little things that mean the most. And then he went his way. She went hers. And the moment was over. But he walked a little taller. A little stronger. Because his girl was – is – proud of him.
As I spent time getting to know Jason and Meghan, that’s what I saw the most: the constant flow of love that she shows to him and the bamillion ways he shows her how much he adores her. It wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t forced. It was steady. Constant. True. And o so gentle. She looks up to him – and at him – and he literally hangs on to her every word. She smiles with her eyes. He grins back.
They met in Indiana. At a church conference. He from British Columbia (aka Canada), she from Ohio (aka United States). She wasn’t at all interested in guys. At all. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. But he noticed her. She avoided him at all cost. But he wasn’t going to give up. He finally figured out a way to talk to her on the last day. She was politely giving him the cold shoulder, mind you, but – o yes – a well-meaning friend came up and informed him that she was most decidedly single. And then the friend walked away. Leaving her in her awkward misery. And he in his persuasive glory.
Who knows what changed her mind. Perhaps his ability to quote children’s movies from the 1980s? Perhaps his macho-manly moment when he pulled a pizza hot pocket out of her 425 degree oven – bare handed – and proceeded to eat it. Immediately. Blister included. Or maybe it was his fail-proof way of making her laugh, and their collective ability to simply have fun. Lots of fun.
And so entereth technology.
A few months went by and Meghan was most definitely not single any more. And, in fact, she was quite glad for it. Because Jason had completely won her over.
So there was one thing left to do.
And, boy o boy, did he propose.
With a bouquet of red roses, a Tiffany’s box, and a Knight in Shining Armor costume (we’re talking the WHOLE costume — helmet included), he walked off the airplane in Ohio and into the parking lot and to her waiting car. With curious families and impatient businessmen looking on, he got to one knee and asked her to be his wife. In the parking lot. In a knight costume. With a rose. And a ring.
And she said yes.
So now they’re getting married, this adorable American girl to her dashing Canadian knight in shining armor. And – oh yes – did I mention that I’m shooting their wedding? In January? In Vancouver?
Meghan and I drove around town with Jason and talking about chick flicks. Poor Jason. He didn’t get it. At all. But as we quoted Bride Wars back and forth, and discussed “couple style” (it’s a movie reference, for those of you who are still confused), I thought back to when she announced her engagement on Facebook. And this is how she did it.
(If that doesn’t perfectly describe these two and their perfectly paired relationship and their overwhelming happiness, I’m not quite sure what does.)
You two have good couple style, Meghan. Real good.