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My husband is afraid of heights and bridges. Why he decided to propose before we crossed an extension bridge in Ireland, I will never know.

I wanted to get married, I just wasn't one of those women who wanted it so badly I would harass my husband about it. I knew that the time would come, and I didn't want to spoil any surprise he may be planning. Even when I would tell a friend or colleague about our upcoming trip to Ireland, and their response was always "I bet he'll propose," I had no clue it would actually happen.

I was jumping out of my skin with excitement to go to Ireland with my husband in August of 2005. I had been on two previous occasions, but he had never traveled there and there was so much I wanted to show him. Ireland is my favorite place to visit and I wanted him to fall as in love with the country as I had. We planned a whirlwind tour because I wanted to return to the west cost, and my husband wanted to see the famous Dunluce Castle in the north. When he was a boy, his father had sent him a postcard of the ancient ruin and he had been dreaming of seeing it in person ever since.

As we drove up the Antrim coast from Dublin, my husband kept insisting that we stop at Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge near Dunluce Castle. I was excited at the idea, but kept assuring my husband that it wasn't necessary because I knew how scared he was of bridges of any kind, and of heights. He convinced me that it was a site we needed to see, so I gave in and we found our way there.

We walked from the parking lot along a winding path that had views of the Rathlin Sound and islands in the distance. Eventually we could spot the famous bridge and the 80-foot chasm it spans. The bridge itself connects the mainland to a small island from which fisherman would catch salmon. Recently, there have been stories of tourists who successfully cross over one way but are too scared to cross back to the main land, resulting in boats having to rescue them off the island.

As we arrived at the crossing point, there was a short line of people that we joined. I looked at my husband and his face was pale.

"You don't have to do this, really," I said.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "If I make it across and back will you marry me?"

"Sure, sure, whatever," was my blithe response. (Anything to get him through this, was what I was thinking to myself.)

The walk across the bridge was exhilarating, and as we were walking around on the small island, what I had agreed to before crossing began to sink in. As

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