Mother of the bride

On a beautiful late summer evening, Jeff took Marissa up to Nepean Point, a picturesque peace of heaven in Ottawa and pulled out a letter.

I'm not sure what is said, but it was poignant enough to make her burst into tears.

And then he got down on bended knee, pulled out a ring and asked her the fateful question.

"Will you marry me?"

The promise was a year in the making. We were never sure when Jeff would pop the question. In fact, we've had several close calls. They went to Cuba, nothing. They went to Montreal, nothing.

Truth be told, I've had a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge for months now.

Last week, Jeff texted me that he was executing the plan.

"What if she says no?" Nick asked when I gave him the news.

Please.

I figure Marissa has had the wedding planned out for some time. She knows what shoes she'll wear, probably where the best deal for a dress will be, and who will be in the wedding party. You see my daughter is born party planner and any 23 year old in her right mind would have at least thought about her dream wedding.

Of course she said yes. How could she not?

This is a couple that is made for each other. They like all the same things: shopping, computers, hip hop, even ultimate fighting. I'm not sure who has more shoes. No, of course I'm kidding. Marissa would win that contest hands down.

Last night, I got the call. The deed is done. The future is bright.

The universe has unfolded as it should.

Congratulations to the lovely couple.