It was a Wednesday night. December 18th, I believe. Approximately 9:30pm. I stood pacing the front steps of the Broadmoor, surrounded by twinkle lights and frozen fountains, iPhone to ear, trying to keep my exposure, “Christmas is a week away and I still have no idea what the heck we are doing?!  The way you fail to commit to plans in advance is CRAZY! Are you coming here, are we going to Texas to see your family, how many people should my mom cook for on Christmas?!  Come on!”

Shivering from the night, I listened as he mustered out some plans. “I just figured out my work schedule. I have to work through Sunday. I’ll drive up  [from New Mexico] that afternoon.”

Finally. A plan. We women like our plans.

Fast forward 24 hours to the night of December 19th. John always calls on his way home from work. Around 9:30p I started to get worried. I called. 30 minutes later, I called again, cause you know, sometimes he doesn’t hear it on the first try. The night goes on and a few more dead-end calls are made and I’m convinced my boyfriend is lying dead in a ditch somewhere in New Mexico. Exasperated, I sent a text, “Are you alive?” and decide to go to bed at 1 am.

Six or seven hours later I awake. Check my cell. Nothing from John. Thinking he’s up early getting ready for work (or just being an obnoxiously nosy girlfriend), I text, “What time did you get home?” Nothing.

Two hours later, I’m upstairs working on Andrea and Jay’s blog when the door bell rings. Secretly hoping it’s John, but seeing no sign of his car out the window as I come down the stairs, and seeing NO response to my “My what time did you get home” text, I was convinced it was just my UPS man.

With my iPhone in one hand, I reach for the door knob with my other. Before I pull it open, my iPhone chimes. Naturally, it’s a text.  A text from John.

“Now.”

Opening the door, with a big smile spread across my face, I was elated to see my John still dressed in his Air Force uniform, revealing that he had just driven overnight from work to see me. With a big ol grin on his face, a dozen red roses in one hand, and a dozen ounces of coffee in a red cup, he said, “Hi Baby Girl.”

He was home.

And I had a feeling the day I dreamed of for 26 years was about to unfold…

Stay tuned for part II of our proposal story!