I had to make a major decision whether to ask Stacy to marry me. Then should I ask or even tell my kids.I decided to let them have their say. The following week I called all my kids and told them I had asked Stacy to marry me. On Saturday I was willing to let them all voice their opinions. So if they had anything to say they should be there. I asked Barb my eldest daughter if she would bring her daughter as a life guard and I would pay her to watch Ben and Marti while they went swimming. I loved my grandchildren but hardly ever saw then since they were teenagers or even older and lived a distance away.Saturday came and the tensions were running high. Kim was the only one of my four kids to ever meet Stacy. Mark, my oldest son and his wife came in and greeted me. Then my younger son Mike and his wife came in. Barb and her husband pulled into the drive and their daughter Becky was with them to watch Ben and Marti at the pool while everyone spoke their piece. Stacy was getting the kids. ..there was a boy. Ryan. Ryan was perfect. He wasn't a pretentious jerk or an asshole jock. He was friends with practically everyone and was friendly to the kids that were labeled outcasts. He was on the soccer team, played guitar, interested in physics, raced motocross...just an interesting guy! He had gorgeous blue eyes, and hair that he colored or cut into crazy styles (like I said it was 2004). He just didn't care what people thought. It was typically brown and in a faux hawk.I remember vividly the day I first saw him. I was at a camp with a friend over a holiday weeken early in the summer. The campground had a lake and we went swimming. There he was, with his friends, he looked a few years older than I was. I couldn't stop staring at his sinewy body. He had a farmer's tan that (for whatever reason in my 14 year old mind) made him that much better. And it turned out that my friend knew him! We whispered among ourselves and worked up the courage to talk to them.The long weekend.
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