Coming out of a fog, I looked up to see Okcate's deeply worried face.

“What’s up?” I asked sleepily.

“Baby, you just had a seizure. I called 911 and the paramedics are almost here.”

It was April 3, 2022. Okcate and I were settling in for the night at our garage apartment. She was making earrings, and the last thing I remembered was looking up places to stay in her hometown, Saint Simon's Island, Georgia, where we had been planning a vacation for some time.

“All Things Must Pass” by George Harrison won a Grammy that night for best vinyl re-release, so earlier, I had put on our copy. Now, “Thanks for the Pepperoni” was blaring from the speakers and Okcate was helping me stand up to meet the EMTs waiting near the front door of our apartment.

While being guided to a stretcher in the driveway, my foot caught a crack in the stone walkway and I stumbled. Something jarred loose inside my shoulder and an overwhelming, sharp pain took hold. At the hospital, the doctors gave me an X-ray and determined that my shoulder was dislocated. It was rotated back into place, much to my relief, but my recovery is still ongoing some months later.

Later, Okcate would say that she heard me from the other room banging against things, then came in to find me shaking violently on the couch and frothing at the mouth. Unable to roll me into a recovery position, she tried to sit me up to keep me from aspirating or hitting my head. My mind had checked out and my body was totally resisting her. Thinking I might be dying and that these could be our last moments together, she did her best to hold me close.

•••

Just days before, I had decided to propose. In our five years together, we’ve had several discussions about marriage, but I’ve typically been the one to express hesitance. I’ve never doubted my love and commitment, but marriage can be such an ordeal -- so expensive and stressful.

Still, the idea had been percolating for a long time. One afternoon, during a visit to the Tulsa Botanic Garden, I asked her about wedding and engagement rings. “Do people usually buy a matching set? Do women wear them both at the same time, or alternate, or just never wear their engagement rings again after a wedding?“

She’d worked quite a few weddings, so I figured she might know more than me, but the question upset her a bit. She thought I wasn’t considering marriage anytime soon, so it was somewhat of a sore subject. Unbeknownst to her, I was actively looking at rings to buy, and even making plans to reserve the venue.

•••

After an MRI of my head showed no abnormalities, I’ve come to accept that the seizure was caused by an anti-depressant that I’d been taking. The max dosage carries an increased seizure risk as a side effect. I’ve stopped taking that medication, and haven't had any further issues.

In the weeks following the dislocation, I slowly recovered the use of my left arm through regular physical therapy. This would be important for the proposal because (and I had to look this up beforehand) an engagement ring is traditionally presented with the left hand while bent down on the left knee.

Even after everything that had happened, we still decided to go on our trip to Saint Simon's Island, and it was everything that I could have asked for. I’d never been to Georgia, and Okcate showed me all around the state on a whirlwind tour of the different places she’s lived, played, and gone to school, plus a few new spots that neither of us had seen before. From Atlanta, to Tallulah Falls, to Cumberland Island, to Savannah, to Saint Simon's Island, the ring was hidden in my luggage or in my pocket -- while I waited for the right moment.

•••

On our last full day on the Island, one month to the day since the seizure, I decided to propose near an old cedar tree that Okcate used to climb as a kid. It’s located by the Saint Simon's Pier and a community theater that she attended for years growing up, which shaped her love of theatre and inspired her major in college. A few years ago, she wrote a bittersweet song about her childhood that references building sandcastles on the beach, eating ice cream, and climbing trees.

We spent the afternoon walking along the beach and in a park near the pier, talking and taking photos. When Okcate went to the restroom, I took the opportunity to set up a camera near the cedar tree. As she was walking back over to me, an amateur artist approached her holding a painting of a truck and said, “If you buy your boyfriend this truck, he'll definitely want to marry you." She politely declined, then came over to me and told me what the man had said.

Odd coincidences and synchronicities like this have become commonplace in our lives since knowing each other. The universe seemed to be setting me up. All I could think to say was, “Well…would you like to be? Married to me?” Then I got down on one knee (the wrong one first because I was so nervous) and pulled the ring from my pocket.

She said, “Yes!”

We kissed and held each other for a long time, then sat down on the nearest seaside bench to begin planning the wedding and the start of the next phase of our lives together.