...as told by Judy. "I have a question for you. How do you feel about me marrying your sister?" began the young man with the ear-to-ear grin. "Fine. Why do you ask?" replies the young woman. She is nonplussed. Literal by nature, and on a car phone, she is matter-of-fact — and clueless. "Because your sister wants to marry me." "How do you know?" "Because I asked her to marry me!" he replies, the elation growing in his voice, the sides of his eyes crinkle with joy and he responds to her with growing giggles. "Oh my god!" He is greeted by screams of elated surprise. Laughter. More screams. More laughter. There is joy and happiness in eye-rolling magnitude. The sister, Dana, and her new husband (new, as in married just six weeks), Adam are thrilled. And so the news spread: Judy & Brent were engaged to be married. Last September 26th took me completely by surprise. San Francisco was crystal clear beautiful, and lazy with its Indian Summer. In fact, the City was outright hot. It was our one-year anniversary and we were spending the day in Northern California's wine country. A day planned by Brent. We do that — surprise one another and plan dates. So it was Brent's sweet day (planned from beginning to end), that we headed up to Napa. We packed a picnic lunch, and toured the Grgich Hills winery, special to us as it was over a bottle of Grgich Hills 1995 Zinfandel that we professed our love for one another just after three months of inseparable dating. The small winery was cool inside. We tasted. We toured. And after the tour, Brent led me through a side door to a private patio. The winery had laid out a bottle of the 1995 Zinfandel (now unavailable, save for the winery's private reserve, we came to find out), wine glasses, and a few items sporting the winery's monogram. I thought it was simply Brent arranging for an anniversary surprise. That would be like him. To think ahead. To plan. To make wonderfulness. For a reasonably bright woman, I was totally clueless. We sipped our wine in the shade of an overhead vine-laden trellis, professing love to one another, at our amazement of the course of events during the past year. We wonder how we both got so lucky. And then Brent started to say something about his life, and how it was different and wonderful with me. I was listening. But when Brent started to talk about how he envisioned his future, his home, a family, and how he couldn't imagine any of it without me as a part of it — I really started paying attention. Some little bell inside my head started ringing: Listen up. This is not ordinary conversation. Duh. So I paid close attention. And felt as though I was both listening as my self and watching as another as Brent held my hands and asked, "Will you marry me?" I was stunned. In fact, so stunned that instead of replying with the standard, "Yes!", or any other exclamatory vote of affirmation, I blurted, "Are you kidding?!" Thankfully, I recovered with a squealing "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and we sealed the question and answer with a kiss full of magic, love, and promise. Brent proposed to me, offering as an engagement gift a white gold and diamond pendant that his grandfather, Nathan, had given to his grandmother, Gertrude, on their 40th wedding anniversary (as close as the Daniel family can remember). It was a gift of love and affirmation from the whole family, a necklace given with the blessing of Brent's mother and father, Darlene and Jerry. A blessing of family, faith, and generosity. I was a mess of tears. Brent was a mess of tears. It was, without question, the most magical day of my life. We called my mother, Joanne, and stepfather, Bruce, from the car, exclaiming the news, asking if we could stop by on our way home. Brent had been chilling a bottle of Veuve Cliquot champagne (my favorite) in the trunk of the car all day. Who knew? Certainly not me. Mom and Bruce knew something was up — Brent had spoken with Mom earlier in the week, casually asking of their Sunday plans. He didn't let on. Nevertheless, Mom and Bruce didn't stray far from home that day. In fact, Brent had spoken with my Mom several weeks before, over Labor Day, on our annual Lake Tahoe trip. We were all out for a hike, and Brent got Mom alone. He called my father, Dennis, and met him for an in-person declaration of his intentions. In hindsight, it seemed like everyone knew, but me. Sometimes the things we don't know, those special surprises, are most precious. —jml