Of all the ways I imagined being proposed to by Daniel, and of all locations that had crossed my mind, Hawaii was not numbered among the many.
When we were nearing engagement, Daniel half-jokingly said, “Perhaps I’ll take you to Paris for the weekend and propose then.” So, then I knew world-wide destinations were not to be crossed off. Still, Hawaii didn’t occur to me.
December 2016: I flew to Honolulu to spend Christmas with my family, particularly because two of my brothers in the military are stationed on Oahu.
January 2017: Daniel flew in just after the new year to be with us all, and we had a photoshoot pre-planned for the 4th.
How it happened: It was quite adventurous, really. A mountainside overlooking the ocean, very private-feeling and incredibly beautiful. Dangerous, however, it was. The exact location we had decided on for the shoot was much higher up, a cliffs-edge, with a narrow, slippery path up the face. We didn’t ascend to the summit as planned, as a young woman (a Hawaiian) had slipped off the 1-foot-wide path and fell 200+ feet to her death just a fortnight before, and the trail had since become illegal to hike. So we settled for a lower-vista, a different trail, but nonetheless a stunning view.
It was golden hour. We rendezvoused with our photographer, India Earl, and started up the slippery mountainside. After a little bit, we came to an overlook point with a WWII bunker - so I slipped in and changed into a floor-length white lace gown from Italy, which Daniel and I had spent months looking for, and bought at a botique in Southern California. I emerged in the gown, jewelry, and slipped off my hiking boots and into sandals. Daniel and the photographer were chatting casually, but when I appeared, he just took my hand and led me to the edge of the bunker.
He was breathing very strangely. Almost like he couldn’t get a deep breath, and he was all the while trying to - deep breath after deep breath. It made me nervous. So nervous I was shaking.
We shot photos on the bunker, then climbed up a large rock and stood atop. It seemed as though we were floating on top of the world.
Adventuring a little higher on the mountainside, we stood on a little plateau just large enough for two sets of feet to stand on.
And on that tiny plateau, with a sheer cliff with a 300 ft drop, Daniel knelt, taking my hands in his. He recounted our previous five years as best friends and then dating, highlighting the ups and downs we experienced and weathered together. “Will you continue this journey of highs and lows together with me?” He asked. “Will you be my wife?” He asked. Three times in all, he asked. And I said “yes” all three times. We celebrated with a tight hug and he kissed my cheek.
After the proposal, we carefully made our way down the mountainside (with me still in my white lace dress and sandals - hardly appropriate attire for a mudslide) and crossed the road, entering a secluded beach area to finish our photoshoot together.
We ran, walked, danced, waded in the water, laughed and honestly could have cried - such a sweet moment (two hours, back in reality’s timeframe) we shared during that photoshoot.
Now, it’s been over two years since Daniel proposed on the mountainside by the ocean in Hawaii, and that time we shared has only become more treasured as the months slip by. I’m glad he chose me, I’m glad we stuck it out in the discouraging and painful seasons, and I’m so glad God brought us together after five years of friendship (and 10 months of no-contact silence - but that’s another story for another time). Over seven years of friendship later, I can honestly say that I’m more in love now than ever, and in many ways, I fall in love anew with each new experience together. 💛
Xo,
Mrs. P
