Maddie and I had previously talked about getting engaged in the summer of 2023. What was nice about that was that I got confirmation that the cute girl from theatre my freshman year who claims I almost got her hit by a car on our first date is willing to spend the rest of her life with me. The problem was she had a pretty good idea of when I was going to propose and I am under the belief that a proposal should be at least kind of a nice surprise. So, a plan began to formulate.

I texted a group of our friends and the day fell into place. One of us would reach out in a big group text inviting everybody to a condo my friend's grandparent owns (thank you Boers family) in Whitehall on the lake. We’d spend the day on the beach, boating around, or playing board games. Just a casual friendly end of summer bash. Then we’d go down to Muskegon for dinner and drinks and right at sunset we’d find ourselves walking on the beach and somebody would suggest we take cute couple pictures. Maddie and I would go last and I’d drop down to one knee and pop that all important question. Everything was going so smoothly, plans were made, everybody was free, and Maddie was none the wiser. Then the big day rolled around and the weather was not a beautiful, sunny August day. It was a cold, rainy, cloudy, August day. But, for whatever reason I was at no point worried the day was a loss. We drove out as a group and after an initial chilly walk down the pier and up the beach we spent some time in an indoor pool, we played bored games and the time to leave for dinner was ready. The sky was still cloudy and even as the friends around me assured me everything was going to work out, they had no need. I knew everything was going to be just fine. We sat down for dinner just as the clouds started to break up, and by the time we finished eating the clouds had broken up and the sun was dipping down below the horizon. Everybody took their turns taking pictures and Maddie and I stepped down the beach. Cameras were raised and I stepped back and dropped down to one knee, and the rest is (recent) history.

Registry