For your Sunday evening reading enjoyment, I direct you to one of my favorite Dear Abby columns of all time. I love it because it reminds me of my fiance, Sam, and how very easily this letter could have been written by him (thankfully, there was no need!). This letter was published last winter, many months before we got engaged, so I couldn’t really pass it around to people laughing and saying, “this reminds me of Sam!” because I didn’t want to incur any bad relationship/engagement voodoo. But now all’s well, and here it is, in all its glory:
DEAR ABBY: I admit it: I am scatterbrained. I’m forgetful when it comes to events and information that affect me personally, although I have the odd ability to remember facts and trivia. It is a source of frustration and amusement to others that I can remember details about the Battle of Actium, but can also lose my car for several days because I forgot where I had it parked.
Now things have gone from comical to critical. I had been planning to propose to my girlfriend of three years, and I have lost the engagement ring. I bought the stone some months ago. It’s a rare green sapphire that she helped select. I had it set without her knowledge a few weeks later. When the ring was completed, I hid it in a small space behind a drawer in my desk.
This month I planned to pop the question. But today, when I looked behind the drawer, the ring was gone. The worst part is I don’t know if I moved it myself. Did I hide it somewhere else because I was afraid she might discover it? Or did I take it out to look at it and forgot where I set it down?
My forgetfulness has caused friction between us before. I want to propose, but I don’t want our engagement to be forever associated with another irresponsible mistake on my part. What should I do? — FORGETFUL IN CHICAGO
I hope everything turned out all right. There is a special little place in my heart for guys like you, and a special big place for one of them in particular.
Right. This blog is no place for schmoop, so away I go.
Oh, P.S. Abby told him to 1) fess up 2) look harder and then fess up 3) buy a new stone, which would probably entail fessing up at some point anyway, unless it wasn’t as rare as he claimed. Then she told him to go get his head, and the rest of him, examined. Poor guy….I hope he found it!
Meanwhile, I hope the girl didn’t get too pissed off waiting for the big moment.