I don’t know about the most romantic thing, but I can tell you of the most unromantic thing!

My husband and I had been good friends and colleagues for about three years. Coming back from an evening at the cinema, I was getting out of the car, he politely holding the door open for me, when he suddenly said, “I suppose we should really think about making this permanent. What do you think?” I was already half way towards my house. I turned back, stared at him and said, “Are you proposing to me?” “Mmm, well yes, I suppose so”, was the answer! Where was the bended knee, the full moon, the single red rose? My hesitant reply of, “Er, um,….” was equally not quite a romantic answer! “I tell you what, we’ll both think about it for three days and meet again on Friday to discuss it, eh?”, my oh, so romantic swain said. Got in the car, waved and drove off!

On the Friday we got engaged, wed a year later and were married for 61 years! A romantic bit does, however, come into the story, which, along with other romantic moments, I shall never forget. During what was to be his last illness, my 93 year old husband took my hand, kissed it and said, “I made a good choice all those years ago, and, you know what, I would do it all again if I could.” Ah! I didn’t need the bended knee, the moon or even the red rose, that was all I needed to hear! It made my heart sing!