A son’s proposal stands test of time

If you’re reading this, it means my 29-year-old son proposed to his longtime girlfriend last weekend. If you’re not reading this, it means he chickened out.

My deadline for a Tuesday column is Friday at noon, so I’m writing this without knowing if he actually went through with it. He seemed pretty determined, though, so I decided to take the chance of writing something that might never be published. If he gags, I’ll just disown him.

His whole family has been urging him to take the plunge for many months now. He’s been with his girlfriend for five years, and they’ve been living together for two years. All of us love her dearly, and she’s seemed a part of the family for a long time. All that’s missing is a proposal.

He just hasn’t been in a big hurry. He took one step in July, when he followed that wonderful, old-fashioned tradition of asking her father for permission to marry his daughter. The two of them were on the beach in Tahoe, and his girlfriend and her mother had left to use the restroom.

“That’s when you asked him?” I cried when he told me the story many months ago. “Couldn’t you have found a more appropriate time?”

“Yeah, it was kind of awkward,” he said with a grin. “There wasn’t a lot of time.” “What did he say?” “He said he was OK with it, as long as I helped him clean his garage. I think he was kidding.”

It’s always awkward, but it’s a great tradition. I particularly liked tormenting my future son-in-law when he nervously asked permission to marry my daughter. It’s what fathers do.

With the father’s permission in hand, everyone assumed the actual proposal was weeks away. As the months passed, I decided to interfere just a bit.

“You know there’s a statute of limitations on a father’s approval,” I mentioned one day. “The clock is ticking. You can’t drag it out forever.”

“I know, I know,” he replied. “It’s coming. Believe me, I don’t want to have to ask him again. I’ve just got to get the ring stuff settled first.”

To his romantic credit, he had a choice of buying a house or a ring, and he chose the ring. I’m just kidding, but engagement rings are not cheap these days. Naturally, he had it designed and made, which took another month.

The whole saga made me think of my marriage. I was 21, my wife was 19, and she was Canadian and couldn’t work in the United States. We were living together in San Francisco, and while traveling to see her family in Montreal, I suggested we get married so she could get a green card.

She said OK, so I bought her a $50 gold band, and we were married three weeks later. Now that’s efficiency.

My son’s saga was a little more traditional, and I was enjoying watching him deal with it. The ring finally arrived a couple of weeks ago, and with his future father-in-law’s approval becoming a distant memory, and ring in hand, he decided the time was right.

“I’m thinking about doing it on Halloween night,” he told me when I heard from his younger brother that it was happening very soon. Naturally, I intrusively wanted to weigh in, even though it was none of my business.

“That’s perfect,” I replied. “Are you going to wear a Freddy Krueger mask (from the movie “A Nightmare on Elm Street”), or maybe dress up as the Grim Reaper? That would go over well.”

“Ha ha. No, I’ve got some ideas, which I have no intention of sharing with you. All I know is I’m not doing it in a public place.”

I decided to give him some fatherly advice. I told him that a lot of guys don’t put a lot of emphasis on the romantic aspects of a proposal (see my experience 44 years ago), but most girls will remember and talk about it for a lifetime.

“I’m not an idiot,” he replied. “I’m not going to ask her to marry me and then sit down on the couch and watch television. I’ve got a plan.”

Fatherly advice was apparently not necessary, or welcome. I decided to do what I do best — shut up. He was a bright boy — he’d pick an appropriate costume.

The day before Halloween, he texted me to let me know he was now planning on proposing to his beautiful and wonderful girlfriend on Friday night instead. Wisely, I didn’t ask any details.

Post-deadline editor’s note: She said yes.

I liked tormenting my future son-in-law when he nervously asked permission to marry my daughter.