Of the First Meeting and the Kindling of Fate

On the first day of May, when spring was fully awake, Philip first spoke my name across the wide and winding roads of eHarmony. A simple greeting it was, yet it carried more weight than either of us knew. I answered at once, for his greeting was crowned by the most noble of mustaches and accompanied by a steadfast hound named Benito, fair and loyal.

Philip soon discovered that my heart loved tales of Middle‑earth and the fellowship of board games, and this pleased him greatly—signs, perhaps, that our paths had long been running toward one another. Not many days passed before we met in the warm and merry halls of the Hobbit Cafe on Mother’s Day, May 11th. When we parted that evening, both of us carried the same thought unspoken: this had been the best first meeting either of us had ever known.

Our next meeting brought sushi and a tale upon the silver screen (The Accountant 2), and there at dinner, with gentle nervousness and earnest care, Philip asked whether my family held hands in prayer. I said yes—though truth be told, as a family we only held hands while praying at holiday dinners.

Of Laughter, Lightning, and Trust

Before Philip departed to visit his kin in the far lands of Pennsylvania, we shared a third evening together over bowls of ramen and quiet talk of life and labor. Then, as if the world itself wished to take part, a sudden lightning storm rose without warning. Lights flickered and we fell into darkness, and I leaned close and said, “Ooooh… mood lighting.” Laughter followed, bright and unrestrained. In that shared joy, I knew he understood my humor as if he had always known it. Later I learned he had been about to speak the very same words—yet another sign our thoughts already walked side by side.

During his absence, sorrow came upon me, for my beloved cat Isabelle, companion of seventeen years, passed from this world. Though Philip had known me but a short while, he stood with me in that grief, steady and kind. In that hour, the first deep roots of trust were set into the soil of my heart.

Of Love Spoken and a Token Given

On August 10th, words long gathering found their voice, and we spoke I love you for the first time. That day, I gave Philip a gift I had carried close for many weeks—Arwen’s necklace, a symbol of abiding love. I had borne it quietly in my purse ever since we watched the Lord of the Rings extended editions together in the theater, waiting for the hour when it would feel right to let it pass from my keeping into his.

Of Counsel Sought and the Promise Made

In October, our families traveled together to Universal Studios in Florida. There, unknown to me, Philip sought my parents and humbly asked for my hand in marriage—at the foot of Hogwarts Castle, where magic seems to linger even now.

Then came November 22nd, beneath the old and majestic oaks of New Orleans. Spanish moss swayed like silver banners in the gentle air as we walked through a park bathed in quiet beauty. Near a fountain, with the light just right and the world seeming to pause, Philip turned to me and said that these last six months had been the happiest of his life, and that he wished to spend all his remaining days with me. He knelt, and with a full heart asked me to be his wife.

And I said yes.

Not an Ending, But a Beginning

Thus ends the first telling of our tale—not as its ending, but as the opening of a greater story yet to be written. May its chapters be many, filled with laughter, faith, steadfast love, and long roads joyfully walked together.