the other day i was feeling sentimental about our story.  two years ago next month, adam proposed to me.  after nonchalantly popping the question in our beautiful suite at hotel madhuban in jaipur, india, he told me about all the ways he almost proposed.

including the day before-- christmas day-- at the taj mahal.  we went for sunrise, despite that i wasn't feeling so hot.  but, that was most of our trip, actually.  we spent six weeks there so i could document a group of children living in prison with their mothers in a northern indian town called lucknow.  i worked for four months prior to our trip to get permission from the government.  when we left in november, i still didn't know for sure whether or not it would pan out.  for two weeks after our arrival, i met with various government officials behind big desks, pleading my case.  without a major publication to back me up, it was a tough go.  eventually i did get permission, but my access was severely limited and situations were staged for my benefit.  as a journalist, that was unethical.  ultimately, not much came of the project, but i learned a great deal about working as a photojournalist in another country.  and i came home with some bling.  :-)

that big morning started with a hazy fog...

a warm glow slowly lit the marble facade.

the mist started to burn off and the visitors came in droves.

and this is the moment when adam almost proposed, but i had to jump up and take THE SAME PICTURE i had already taken about a hundred times that morning.

here's adam's account (if you've known us awhile, this may have made you tear up the first time you read it :-) ):

becca said, “Yes”—i’m assuming; she’s assuming. the ring is on her finger, if that’s evidence. the factual details are lost in our collective haze.

both of us, paid professional observers of life, lost in the quaky blur of a marriage proposal. she keeps looking at the ring. i am glad the secret is out of the little red satin bag it hid in for the past five weeks here. it came in an impromptu carnival barker-meets-street hustler style game of Pick Your Prize. but i’ve wanted to blurt it before now, in various ways, at various times. examples:

sitting on a bench at the Taj Mahal on Christmas morning as the sun rose and hundreds of tourists and indians floated near and far; or during our Christmas dinner of macaroni and cheese, tomato and cheese on toast, and french fries at our new hotel in jaipur, following six-plus long bus hours; or when we were squeezed onto an 18-inch wide bedrack between a curtain and a train window at one a.m. between lucknow and agra early on Christmas eve, trying to both lay out for sleep.

i think i’ve rattled out to becca a dozen different ideas and adaptations i had on how to get the ring and the question to land at the same time. it started months ago. i laid the seeds of misdirection early, letting people know i didn’t dare travel with the ring. in our bedroom at home, i once recapped a segment of a phone conversation with my mother: “and she said, ‘i know you’re not going to take the ring to india, but…’” that was my way of saying to becca: see, even my mother knows we’re not getting engaged on our trip.

still this morning, just minutes before the moment, i was jukin’ and jivin’ as becca and i sat at the hotel restaurant breakfast table talking once again about engagement. i said i could give her one of my rings—i’d brought five with me as part of a disguise for the sixth one hidden beneath them. “how romantic,” she said in sarcasm. i’m not romantic? i laid out a few of the recent thoughts i’ve had:

…at the Taj i wanted to ask you when…but what i do after i spill the words in a moment of romantic tenderness. just say, ‘i guess i’ll finish the deal when we get home.’ you know? what ring was i supposed to give you?’

the ring actually had been in my pocket at that Taj moment. i felt a proposal there—and on Christmas—might be cliché and predictable. besides, becca inadvertently ruined the moment i nearly shot out the words to her. at the same time, she stood up to go shoot one more frame of the same scene she’d already photographed at least three times.

but i’d also passed an opportunity for surprise two nights back: …i thought of asking on the train the other night…but what was i supposed to do, break a pole or something to steel a metal band off—a washer or something— to put on your finger?

the ring was in a bag stowed above my head that time.

my thoughts: not romantic? oh, i’ve been thinkin’, babe. i’ve been thinkin’.

as i sipped the last of my coffee at breakfast, i finished my i-am-romantic defense with: if i had the ring in my pocket now, i’d ask you, but what can i do? i don’t have it. well, that was true. but i’d chosen to leave the ring in the room not expecting to ask her until she got over the illness plaguing her for the past few days. patience and adaptability have been lifesavers on this trip of obstacles. picking a method and time of proposal has required that too. but the time had come. i couldn’t wait any more.

in the room, with my five rings out of their satin bag i rehashed with her where we’ve gotten them—greece, thailand, india. and joining her sitting on the day bed next to the window, i offered one my man-sized rings to her—a subtle, whimsical proposal without the official words. so, do you want one of these? “are you serious?”

i laid the five rings on the day bed in a line. close your eyes, i said. no, wait. i turned my back, to her so i could lay the rings out again in better privacy, adding a sixth one to the lineup. i stood up out of the way. now choose; open your eyes.

she laughed and grabbed the one she wanted. i picked up the five men’s rings she left behind, and i sat down again. then i may have said, what do you think? i can’t be sure if that’s what happened; life spun into a whirl. is this okay?

becca asked me if she had to put the ring on herself. i took it from her. holding it in the fingers of my quivering hands, and remembering the official question, i asked: so, will you marry me?

before quiver in my hands became tremble—dropping the ring, spoiling the romance—i slid the evidence of Becca’s “Yes” onto her finger.

how has the state of the economy affected your wedding plans?  are you clamping down on your budget?  eliminating extras?  shortening the guest list?  thankful that it hasn't affected you and planning as usual?  let's hear it!

@ wedding-palindrome-wedding for giving us a lovely batch of link love this week!  alice is a friend of ben and laura's whose wedding slideshow is here and engagement slideshow is here.

and i must give another shout out to liz of liz and rob fame and matrimony for continuing to be a rockstar commenter here.  we LOVE the blog love!!!  we're just a handful of comments away from our 100th comment!  it could be YOU.  there will be great rewards.  well, a small reward, but all you have to do is tell us how much you love us.  hehe.  just kidding.  no preferential treatment here.

i'm feeling curious at the moment.  if you are currently in the planning stages or are already married, i'd like to know what your most difficult wedding-related decision has been or was.

wedding date?
venue?
dress?
photographer?
cake?
guestlist?
band?
table decor?
write your own vows?
entree choices?
videographer?
to hire or not to hire an event planner?
timing?

let's hear it!

for us, i think the guestlist was the toughest thing to hammer out.  we knew we wanted to keep it small and much of our family and friends live in other places.  we considered vegas briefly just for the sheer craziness of it, but ultimately decided on el monte sagrado in taos, new mexico.  we had a small, intimate outdoor ceremony in the rain with 10 guests, officiated by adam's mom.  we wrote our own vows.  we had a husband-wife-daughter trio of native american flutists.  we all went for coffee down the street after we got married. 

two days later, adam and i drove off in our car with a smashed in hood from the deer collision (#2 in three years! grand total: $8k in damage between the two.) we had on the way out, just miles from greensburg, kansas, when our original route changed course as a result of the hurricane we just missed.  in taos, my dad propped the headlight back into position with a STICK. 

when we got home from our honeymoon tour of new mexico and colorado and got an estimate on the car, we found out the radiator cap had been torn off, so it's amazing we were able to keep going. 

ahhhh, the memories.

i remember how angry i was in the 8th grade when i learned that it is the electoral vote that determines who is elected president and not always the popular vote.  i knew nothing of politics at the time, really, and didn't become interested in it until my early twenties, but i do remember being pissed.  i didn't think it was fair.  i still don't think it's fair.

but, i still can't stress enough how important it is to vote tomorrow.  i won't tell you for whom to vote, though i know that one candidate gives me hope as an american who has logged lots of miles around the world and one candidate makes me fearful.  one candidate makes me excited about the future of this country and one makes me want to move overseas.  one is a powerful, eloquent and inspiring speaker and one makes me cringe.

don't be apathetic.  please go vote tomorrow.