I proposed to mom on December 21st of 2014. I really wanted to make it perfect so I spent months thinking about every detail. I knew the basic design she liked and visited countless jewelry stores to learn about diamonds and settings. Finally I found a small store in Lexington Ma that would help me design the ring myself. I picked the best diamond I could find (and afford) and designed a band I thought would be timeless. Having that ring in my pocket for days before I proposed was a hard secret to keep. Once the ring was taken care of I spent all my free time driving around the city trying to find the best place to pop the question. I still wasn’t sure what to say and how I would convince her to spend the rest of her life with me but I first I had to set the backdrop. One day I drove past Christopher Columbus Park on the edge of the North End, they were setting up these beautiful lights on a trellis and I knew that was the perfect place. I went back every day in a row for almost a week and sat in the cold to see what time the lights turned on, when would be the perfect time and where under the trellis would be best. I wanted it to be perfect for her. So now I had the ring the spot and the time – I just needed to figure out what to say. I worked on different variations of what to say I had it all planned out. One of my good friends is a talented photographer and I asked him to wait there for us to show up so he could capture the moment I asked. He was kind enough to sit in the snow hidden away and wait. I chose a Sunday to do it- I started days before by asking if she wanted to go to dinner Sunday since I had to open the restaurant but only had to work an hour until the manager showed up. That morning I set the plan in motion by saying how i really needed a cappuccino that day – i knew we didn’t have time to get one before I went to work since we had a full day so I said we should go to this shop in the north end once the manager showed up and before we went to dinner. Your mom always kept me waiting when we had plans but she new I had to go to work so I was waiting less than usual. When she walked down the stairs I remember thinking how beautiful she was. She was dressed in white pants and brown boots with a white fur short jacket. She looked like a movie star and I figured she had to know what I was doing because she was so dressed up. Once the manager arrived (late I might add) we walked from Vintage (my restaurant in the financial district) to the north end. It was a cold New England December night but better than most. As we got to the edge of the park I was so nervous- I knew what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it but I was worried I would get tongue tied. Luckily i never thought about the potential of her saying NO. That would have caused a whole different level of nervous. I think deep down I just knew we loved each other too much for it not to work out. Well – as we turned to walk up the steps of the park it started to snow a light flurry- enough to create a really special scene – right out of a Norman Rockwell painting – despite the snow – I started to sweat. The ring was in my right pocket- your mom on my left. The poor photographer was waiting hiding in a bush half way down the walk for about 45 minutes already. As we walked I picked what I thought was a perfect spot and I would love to tell you exactly what I said but I was so nervous that I don’t know what came out – only the ones in intended to use. I’m sure your mom will tell you all about it. I dropped to one knee, opened the ring box and asked her to be my wife. The photographer started running at us taking pictures and that’s why you will have that exact moment memorialized. I was so nervous and so concerned about doing it perfectly and mom was so shocked that we actually looked at the pictures that night as if we hadn’t seen it first hand. I loved sliding that ring on her hand. One day that ring will be yours and so will mine. I hope that you will wear mine close to your heart and know that it represents the love that brought you into this world.