December 7, 1992
It was a freezing, snowy day in Pullman. There was this boy. We’d only been officially “dating” for 7 months. I’m pretty sure we went to a movie that day — Robin Hood was playing at the $1 theater. We were broke college students, so that was what we could afford (more than, actually). We went to the Combine for coffee afterward, like we did on our first “date that wasn’t really a date”. Things felt weird. We were getting ready to leave school in a couple of weeks. We both had big dreams and they didn’t really involve another person. He was going off to intern at a newspaper on the West Side and I was going to San Francisco. Those roads don’t cross and we both knew it.
It was crowded and loud and we ended up back at his little basement apt on Maple Extension. Night fell and he asked me to go for a walk in the snow. This was it, I thought. This was where he told me that this had been amazing and fun, but this chapter was ending and we both had to chase those dreams. We walked in silence as the snow fell and Christmas lights twinkled. It wasn’t an easy silence like it usually was with him — this boy who had come out of nowhere and stolen my heart. I had a lump in my throat because I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do without him.
And then he stopped in front of this old historic church on the edge of campus. I felt like I was watching television as he got down on one knee and opened up that box. I have no idea what he said. But I said yes.
He called my dad as any decent boy does. Although everyone knows that it didn’t matter what he said. I was going to marry him.
We’ve never been conventional. We’ve had more addresses than all of our 6 siblings combined. We’ve often made impetuous decisions that leave everyone shaking their heads. We’ve grown up together, that boy and me. I could not be more grateful.
Thank you for asking, Lloyd Brown. 23 years feels like forever and a flash all at the same time.