I had been dating Edward just three months when we started talking marriage. We had been set up on a blind date during a brief visit I had to Charleston over Christmas before heading back to New York where I was in graduate school.
No one used email back then, and so he wrote me a letter every day in addition to giving me a call. It was a sweet, sweet whirlwind romance – half of it experienced on Edisto Island and Charleston and the other half in Manhattan where we attended the opera (standing room only tickets for a professor and grad student, of course) and cheap off-off Broadway plays, and ate inexpensive but romantic dinners from street stands or noodle shops.
The proposal was the best. It was my birthday, and we were staying with my parents on Edisto Island. He snuck into my room just before sunrise and we walked, bleary eyed down to the dock and then puttered in his old aluminum jon boat down the salt marsh creek and out into the North Edisto River where he got down on bended (wobbly) knee and clutched (with a death grip) a little velvet box he opened as the sun rose.
Relieved at my “yes!”, he carefully slid the ring on my finger and as if God had not smiled enough on us that early morning, we saw in the distance, an older couple in a boat in the distance watching the same sunrise, leaning into one another.
It was a miraculous morning.
For more info. on Beth Webb Hart’s new novel, Moon Over Edisto click here