It Could Have Been So Different

As I think about the joy of the proposal on New Year’s Eve (as per previous post), I cannot help but look a little bit further back because although Emma and I had been discussing building a life together, December had proved to be more than a little bit rocky on the relationship front with several major rows and also unbeknown to Emma, her father (John) had put up a good effort at trying to put me off marrying his eldest daughter when I had called in unexpectedly to ask for his permission to marry Emma. Let me explain:

On one dark and damp December evening I wandered the short distance from our home to Gill(Emma’s mother) and  John's house to ask for John’s permission to wed Emma. After some pleasantries and small talk over tea and biscuits I manoeuvred the conversation to the forthcoming ski trip and my intention to propose to Emma on New Year’s Eve and that I would like to have John’s blessing before doing so.

Well to say the mood in the room lightened would be an understatement. There was an immediate and distinct feeling of joy, which touched me as I thought how nice it was that both John and Gill seemed so happy about the prospect of me joining their family. Then, as the minutes ticked by, I started to pick up a different emotion as the smell of relief wafted up my nostrils.  I soon came to the realisation that the euphoria reverberating around the room was not so much about Mr & Mrs T gaining the effervescent and boyishly good-looking Don Marsh as a son-in-law, but more that finally someone was going to take Emma off their hands. By the end of my visit I genuinely sensed it could have been Shrek, Darth Vader or even Hannibal Lecter popping the question and the jubilation displayed would have been the same.

The meeting however took an even stranger turn and to this day I am not precisely sure what was going through John’s mind at the time because after the clear and genuine joy came a period of what I can only assume was delirium as he spouted a number of lines which left me in a somewhat agitated state:  “are you sure you know what you’re taking on?” followed very quickly by “she can be very difficult you know …. She’s just like her mother” and finishing off with “but you’re a strong character Don so you should be alright”.

So within 2 minutes of being given permission to ask Emma for her hand in marriage I was already questioning my own sanity.

But that’s not the end of it, oh no, the coup de grâce was when John proceeded to explain to me that Emma was financially independent and so at least I could rest assured that she was not after me for my money.

I can honestly say that up until that night, the thought of Emma as a money grabbing vixon had never once entered my mind but on what felt like a much longer than normal walk home, I explored some deep and dark recesses in my mind but ultimately was determined not to let the experience derail the love train and the rest, as they say, is history.