Our Engagement Story

I had absolutely no idea just how difficult a task it is to propose marriage to someone. Those commercials that remind the viewer that a 'diamond lasts forever' don't mention that shopping for one takes equally as long. At least it felt like forever after the sixth weekend in a row going from shop to shop, learning everything there is to know about clarity, cut and weight. I now know that a diamond is formed by compressing a bank account into the hardest substance known to man.

Melissa loved her ring. In fact, I remember her gaze at it like a deer caught in headlights. Carol Channing sang that diamonds are a girl's best friend, and I'm starting to think she was right...they'll out-live men, light up a room like no man could and a diamond doesn't need to take Viagra to stay hard forever. It is hard for a man to compete with a diamond, maybe that is why men have proudly taken on the dog as their best friend. As long as a man doesn't pee on the rug or chase cars then they'll appear to be the superior species…well, most of the time anyway.

After buying the ring the next biggest task is choosing the perfect location and situation for which to propose. After polling several men from work the most popular answers were (a) they got loaded and handed a ring to their girlfriend at a local bar in a desperate effort to get a free plate of chicken wings or (b) they were getting yelled at by their girlfriend and used the ring to stop the yelling. A diamond ‘get out of jail free’ card if you will.

While these choices remain classic examples of romance at its best I remained determined to try and do something unusual; believing the story of how Melissa received the ring would be just as important to her as the ring itself.

I asked Melissa to book off work from June 13th till June 16th. This was the day before her birthday and I thought a surprise trip would be a nice way to begin her new year. I packed a bag for her the morning of the 12th and arranged for a limousine to pick us up that evening from our building. The limo arrived the evening of June 12th filled with roses and a bottle of champagne and met Melissa at the door of our building as she arrived home from work.

As we drove to the airport Melissa asked me 20 questions as to our final designation but I didn't let any secrets slip. The airport ticket agents were more than happy to play along and reminded me to hold onto both tickets. As we boarded the plan she read the sign that we were heading to Heathrow in London but she didn't know if that was our final stop or not.

As we were about to enter the plane we were stopped by a man who worked for the airline. He gruffly asked for our seat assignment tickets, looked at them and ripped them in two saying they were no good. He must have enjoyed our jaws dropping in shear horror wondering what was going on. He pulled two first class tickets out of a folder and handed them to us. With a discreet smile, he quietly told us congratulations, winked and walked away.

Wow! We had our own private movie monitors at our seats! More champagne than we could drink, the best meal...it was incredible! We didn't want to leave the plane when we pulled into Heathrow....but alas, our adventure was just beginning. Melissa asked if we were staying in London. I told her no and directed her to our next flight. The next flight was to Paris and was a short flight of about just 45 minutes.

I could tell she had no idea if Paris was just a stop-over or if this was our final destination. I was really enjoying the game of it all when I suddenly realized it couldn't go on much longer; once we picked up our luggage she would know we were here to stay. So, once we were off the plane and just in front of the luggage conveyors I told her we were here to stay and why I picked France.

On our first date, Melissa told me that she had spent a year in France on an exchange when she was 18. She went to a little town by the water called Blaye which is near Bordeaux. It was her first time away from her parent's home in Calgary and she went there not speaking a word of French.

The first six months were spent with a wicked woman who mentally abused and intimidated her. I still don't know many stories of what happened during the first six months. Melissa never spoke much of it. I do know that she gained 30 pounds in those six months and when we went to Blaye she could not remember exactly which house was the host family's even though she lived there for six months. I don’t know what went on there, but I know that it must have been a horrible ordeal for her.

Melissa had asked the exchange association that sent her to Paris if she could have another host family without giving them details as to why she wanted this. They refused. I still don't really understand why she didn't leave on her own. She said that at the time she felt trapped, unable to leave. I imagine it's because she was 18 with little money and didn't want to be seen as a failure by her family and friends back home for not being able to hack it abroad.

Blaye is a small town and word of any trouble gets around pretty fast. An elderly couple living in Blaye had heard of Melissa's troubles and felt they had to do something. The gentleman decided to meet with Melissa's host mother to determine if there was any truth to the stories he had heard of the woman's abusive nature.

I don't know what the discussion was between the elderly gentleman and Melissa's host mother but his wife said that when he came home afterwards his face was white and he told his wife they needed to get Melissa out of there immediately.

Melissa didn't know who this elderly couple was that wanted to help her, she didn't know anything about them except they were involved with the local Rotary Club. After several peaceful attempts to remove Melissa from the home they decided to get the local police involved as they were afraid the host mother would become violent. Soon after, Melissa did leave and came to live with this elderly couple for the remainder of her exchange.

The reason why I chose Blaye to propose to Melissa was because when she and I had our first date she told me that her experience in France molded her into the person she is today. Surviving the hard times made her realize she could overcome any of life's challenges and this gave her the confidence that she still carries today. When I pulled her aside in that airport I told her that I wanted to meet the elderly couple and thank them...for many things; for helping Melissa become the person she is today, for saving her, for saving me...

Picture us both crying, while embraced, in a crowed airport by the luggage conveyor belt, as people crowded us to get at their luggage. It wasn't a Kodak moment per se, but special none the less.

We stayed the night in Paris and in the morning we rented a car and drove to Blaye which is about 5 hours away. Melissa drove Mach 10 the entire way as I held on for dear life to the passenger door.

The drive from Paris to Blaye is absolutely beautiful and I would recommend it to anyone. We passed through many small towns that haven't changed in centuries with cobble stone streets and houses older than Canada. It was so beautiful.

We arrived in Blaye and Melissa took us straight to the elderly couple's house. On the way, I learned their first names were Leo and Isabelle Deniau. They were in their mid-eighties and we soon found out they were still living in the same house that Melissa lived in for several months all those years ago.

When they saw Melissa they threw their arms around her and the three of them cried as they held each other. I really wanted to commemorate them for helping Melissa by giving a formal thank you when I met them. I had been practising my speech the entire trip from Paris and I couldn't wait to use it. Well, as soon as Mr. Deniau stuck out his hand to shake mine I began. It was beautiful; Melissa later told me I was articulate, thoughtful and truly romantic...I can only imagine how good it would have been if either of them had spoken a word of English. One would think that Melissa would have brought up this point during our discussions in the car but as she is fluent in French she probably never stopped to consider it a problem for me.

Leo and Isabelle just stared at me, pausing slightly after my speech they smiled. I believe Isabelle even nodded once or twice out of politeness. There was a short awkward pause before ushering us into the house to get caught up with the Canadian girl that they had lost touch with more than a decade ago.

I believe I now know what it is like to be a dog. We soon had tea in our hands and were sitting around their kitchen table. As Melissa and the Deniaus talked I had no idea what was being said. I just looked at whoever was speaking and when they laughed I laughed, when they looked sad I looked sad and nodded my head as if in agreement. I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Whenever I heard a word that I understood, such as Max, Toronto, Hamilton, SARS, etc…my ears perked up like I was finally grasping the language. It was short lived however as usually the words following the word I understood would bring me back to a state of confusion.

Melissa told me the Deniaus had invited us to stay the night at their house and we both heartily accepted. Their place was right out of a story book. It was over 200 years old and absolutely beautiful.

Their kitchen window opened up to a garden filled with flowers and trees and it made you wonder if anyone ever left Blaye and if so why? I couldn't imagine a more beautiful place.

In the last couple of hours of sunlight Melissa and I walked down to the water and through the citadel.

The citadel is an old fortress that I was told had been used to protect the town during times of war, hundreds of years ago. I told Melissa I thought the idea of proposing in a castle was very romantic, tales of a knight and a princess. To tell you the truth though I couldn't stop thinking about the French in that castle from Monty Python's ‘The Holy Grail’ and wishing I could be taunted a second time before "la vache" would be fetched. I decided these thoughts would be best kept to myself.

It was on top of a hill inside the citadel overlooking the water I got down on one knee and asked Melissa to marry me. I remember feeling it was a very special moment although we were both so nervous that neither of us remember what I said. I believe it was something to the effect that I would spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy. The most important part I do remember, and that was that she said yes. It was a great feeling. I took out the ring that I had been carrying in my front pocket the past couple of days and placed it on her finger.

All was right in the world.

We walked down the hill and towards the town, hand in hand, totally in love. We were engaged. It was a very special moment for us.

When we past the phone booths we should have kept on walking. However, we were honour bound to share our special moment with our loved ones.

After several calls to both Melissa's and my families the only person we were able to reach was my grandmother. My grandmother was born and raised in Port Perry and at the time had recently turned 96 years of age. A wonderful lady, she was both wise and very knowledgeable. She was also however, stone deaf.

I started talking to her in a normal tone and when it became obvious she could not hear me I slowly raised my voice until we found the right volume. This turned out to be a full on scream into the phone.

While strangers at a nearby cafe watched, I began to scream as loudly as I could into the phone trying to get my grandmother to understand that Melissa and I had become engaged.

The strangers across at the cafe had no idea what I was saying as it was in English; all they knew is that this crazy man walked down the hill, hand in hand with his love and was now shouting at the top of his lungs into a pay phone.

The only word my grandmother could make out was "marriage" to which she then made the assumption that we got married, not just engaged.

Before I knew it she was crying on the phone telling me it will break my mother's heart when she learns we got married without the family in attendance. I shouted as loud as I could into the phone, telling her that we were just engaged, not married. But again with her being deaf, it wasn't easy. By the time I hung up the phone 20 minutes of shouting later, everything had been sorted out; at least I believed it was.

The next morning we woke up to Mr. Deniau’s news that we had better get ready because he had made arrangements for the Rotary Club members to meet us for lunch. My imagination immediately lead me to assume that perhaps a local Arby's surrounded by old men in Shriner’s hats would be our next destination. How wrong I was.

Melissa and I followed behind the Deniaus in our rental car as they led us to a nearby castle located on a local winery. It was absolutely incredible. The castle was right out of a story book and the owners were a young couple only a few years older than Melissa and I. Apparently the father had bought his son this castle and winery as a coming of age present. In Canada, we receive what’s known as a ‘hallmark card’ for our coming of age presents. All in all, I’d rather be from France.

As we entered the large dining room we were surprised to find approximately 30 or so couples waiting for us for lunch.

Apparently the news of how the Deniaus had helped Melissa those 13 years ago had become somewhat of a legend within this group and a source of pride for the Rotary Club. I quickly learned that they take great pride in the help that they provide to their community and beyond and Melissa's story was an excellent reason for them to celebrate the good work that they do. There were few people under 50 and they were all immaculately dressed and obviously wealthy.

I felt very self-conscious in my t-shirt and jeans. That feeling was only amplified after I found out the man sitting beside me at the dinner table was the Chief Nuclear Officer of the local four unit nuclear generating station. I kid you not. Melissa apparently forgot to mention the small fact that the town of Blaye is supported by not only the wine industry but by the nuclear industry as well.

The Deniaus had made mention to the winery hosts that I worked in a nuclear power plant in Canada and they arranged to have me sit beside this gentleman. He spoke English very well, as did many people there. I was so nervous as he asked me questions about nuclear power in Canada. To tell you the truth I was so worried about saying the wrong thing I still have no idea what his name was.

You get to know someone fairly well over the course of a French dinner...you see, it lasts at least five hours and includes many, many drinks.

First the aperitif, then the wine, then champagne, then cognac...and then the real drinking begins.

By the end of it we were like old friends sharing laughs and funny stories.

Another enjoyment of dinner was the troupe of English Rotarians that were visiting. They were easy to spot as they were right out of a Benny Hill episode...wild hair, tweed suits and loud boisterous laughs. They were in sharp contrast to the fairly uptight and chic looking French. The English gentleman sitting on the other side of me enjoyed the words "brilliant" and "fuck" and used them in nearly every sentence during the five hour meal.

He listened to the story of how I proposed to Melissa and took delight in pointing out to the French males of our table that their reputations for being romantics was being challenged. By the middle of dinner and after many drinks his ability to speak dwindled down to the repeated phrase, "He fucking got you lot. Brilliant really. Brilliant."

The afternoon was incredible. It felt almost as if our wedding had taken place.

After the dinner, Melissa and I said goodbye to everyone and promised we would be back often. The Deniaus had tears in their eyes as they hugged Melissa and reminded her not to stay away so long.

Melissa and I didn't talk too much on the way back to Paris. So much had happened during the past 48 hours that we just sat silently holding hands and became lost in our own thoughts.

The next morning we started on the journey home to Canada and by 8:30am Tuesday I was back in my cubicle in Pickering wondering how so many things could happen over the course of a weekend.

Brilliant really. Brilliant