On a cold morning in Harlem, New York, my duffle bag was packed and waiting for me by the door. It was a long spring break for me. A group of mass communications majors took a trip to New York City. A few of us stayed behind and spent the rest of our break with a friend. It had been 10 days since I had been back. About an hour on a bus ride and two flights got us back to Arkansas late that afternoon.
The drive back was exhausting, but conversations kept us awake during the drive home. It was then when I received a phone call. It was Rita Gonzalez, my now fiance’s mother.
“Danny?”
“Hey, Rita,” I replied.
“Kimmie’s dad just past away a few minutes ago.”
Just like that. The news was broken to me.
“I wanted you to know first, so you could tell Kimmie.”
It was then that I knew things were drastically going to change.
Kimmie and I had been dating for over two years at this point and our relationship was quite serious. The topic of marriage was always in a conversation. I knew she was awaiting a ring and I was ready to give her one, but not until I got permission first.
I did not know her father very well. I met him once when Kimmie and I first started dating. Shortly after that, Ramon was admitted to the hospital due to excessive drinking.
To this day I still don¹t know exactly what it was that sent him to the hospital, but I do know it had something to do with his alcoholism.
Kimmie and her dad were extremely close. Their relationship suffered slightly because of the drinking, but she still loved him. I would hear stories about the two of them all the time — going camping, fishing, visiting their favorite state, Colorado, and listening to John Mellencamp.
After staying in the hospital for months, he was transferred to a nursing home where he would live in a vegetative state for more than a year and a half. I visited him with Kimmie a few times. He could not eat or speak. He was fed through tubes and communication consisted of head nods in agreement.
It was very frustrating trying to talk, especially during one instance. Ramon was trying to say something during one visit, but we could not figure out what he was saying. Kimmie asked yes or no questions, but that only led to more frustration from Ramon. Although Kimmie did not know what Ramon was saying, I knew.
“Ask him if he wants me to take care of you,” I told Kimmie with tears in my eyes. She did. A smile grew on Ramon’s face, tears filled our faces even more and a John Mellencamp CD accompanied us in the background.
When I received the call on the way home from New York that day in March, I was devastated. My plan to ask his permission to marry his daughter was shot.
At this point it was time to fulfill Ramon’s request to take care of his daughter. In early May I took Kimmie to our spot. The spot where we first kissed; Jefferson Davis Confederate Park in Memphis, Tenn.
That night was supposed to be perfectly planned. It was going to be a night of a civil war museum, a baseball game and music from the Memphis in May festival with backstage passes for Ben Folds.
Once again, my plans were shot. We went to a baseball game, the museum was closed and the concert was rained out. It was miserable, but with the ring in my pocket I was not going to let this day get rained out.
Standing at our spot in the pouring rain, I explained to her that I was upset about Ramon, but that I wanted to fulfill his wishes and take care of her for the rest of my life. With thunder and lightning in the background and a pancho wrapped around her head I held her close, stumbling over my own words. We both had that lump in our throats, for she knew exactly what was going on and I couldn’t think what my next sentence was going to be. I pulled the ring out of my wet pocket, presented it to her and without saying anything she pointed her ring finger in my direction. I guess that was her way of saying yes.
That next morning in Little Rock, we celebrated. Spontaneously we decided we wanted tattoos. “Restore” in Hebrew on her left foot and “slave” in Greek on my right; Our first date as an engaged couple. It was the happiest moments of our lives.
I wasn’t able to ask Ramon’s permission to marry his daughter, but I know by the smile on his face that he already approved.
On Jan. 3, Ramon will not be there to walk Kimmie down the aisle to give her away, but a new man will be waiting to take her the rest of the way.
