Can't Miss It
This story begins with love, as it is a love story.
I met my husband in line for coffee at our neighborhood organic grocer. I knew from the second I noticed him across the store that something special was happening. My heart raced and butterflies rushed my stomach. He had a calm, cool, relaxed smile on his face. Almost immediately upon entering the coffee line, Tynan, my now husband, began chatting to me. We talked for awhile about beer and med school and him being a preschool teacher. Right when things were getting good, he became panicky and mentioned he needed to get going as he looked down at my finger. I began to stress feeling this moment slip away. I looked down and realized I was wearing my mother's wedding ring she left me six months prior when she passed. My friends always asked if I was worried if it would scare men away and I just said the right one would ask. Sure enough, Ty asked. I said it was a gift from my mom. He settled down and took my number and so it went. We were a match.
About ten months into dating we took a trip to my homestate Arizona, for my friend's wedding. We also planned a trip to the Grand Canyon as it is my favorite place in the world and where my sister recently spread my mother's ashes. I wanted to go and connect and share this experience with Ty. Little did I know that Ty was planning on proposing. We arrived at the park (Grand Canyon) early, and Ty seemed flustered. He is usually very calm and laid back so when he needed a ginger ale on the ride to settle his stomach I began to wonder if he was alright. I kept wanting to show him my favorite spots. Instead, he kept taking my hand and leading me from one location to another after deciding the previous place was too crowded or that we should just walk further and check out the next view. At one point I thought he was trying to get me to hike the entire canyon. We walked up to a snow covered cliff where he asked me to step off the trail and walk out near the edge. Anyone who knows me knows this goes against everything in my soul. Alas, I followed, as Ty was so worked up and befuddled. Then, he knelt on one knee and said some beautiful words and proposed! It was perfect.
We walked back down to the lodge glowing and smiling. We enjoyed a glass of champagne at El Tovar overlooking the canyon. As we were leaving, I noticed a brick in the wall. It spoke to me and I had to take a picture. I told Ty how my mom would love this rock. And go figure, my eldest daughter has a true and deep appreciation for peculiar rocks as well. This rock felt particularly special. A rainbow all alone in the midst of white. It almost looked alive.
On the drive back to Flagstaff, Ty explained to me how he intended on proposing to me where my sister scattered my mother's ashes. She had described it and sent some pictures, however he was unable to find the right place. I was touched. A very thoughtful gesture and one that meant just as much in thought as it did in reality. He showed me her emails. When I looked closer at the picture I was in shock. And almost immediately tears streamed down my cheeks.
There was the same rock. Unmistakeable and full of color and vibrancy.
Our proposal was nothing less because my mother was not alive. Sure, I wished I could tell her and that she could meet Ty and see us so happy and in love. Yet, seeing the rock in both of our pictures, I felt she was there.
I'm not one to believe in love at first sight, yet it happened to me. And I am not one to believe in fate or destiny. I do believe that Ty not finding the right spot and instead me finding this rock on my own, made this moment much more significant and special.
Recently, I am struggling with many of the challenges life has to offer. And some days are pretty dark. Yesterday marked six years since we were engaged and Facebook reminded me with my pictures. And there was that rock again. Right where I needed it. And a few days ago I was in the midst of some tough times and a painting of my mother and father began rocking on the wall out of nowhere. Then, my youngest daughter, Lucky, began ferociously pointing to my mom asking, "Who's this?" We kept saying Grandma Lisle. Here she was again. Right when I needed her. She always seems to pop up when I need her. Just like when she was alive. Only now I don't get to ask and follow her advice. I get to ask and then follow my own advice. What a perfect and wonderful gift she has given me.
My dear friend and I were just saying how we need to trust in the hard times. Trust that things will get better or make more sense. Yes, trust. But you know, trust is a fickle bitch. Sometimes we need to pull out our old photos and remind ourselves.
And how do we know when we are on the right path? It's easy when life is flowing and we are healthy and happy and feel balance and calm. That makes up about 10% of my life so far. So, how do I know, even when I am in the muck? Like actually know? I just knew the right guy would ask about my ring and I just so happened to find my mom's rock. My new mantra is, if I am open and present I can't miss it. And if I can't miss it, then I can just relax and let my fickle friend Trust take over.