Almost exactly 11 years ago (on October 6th, in fact), the man of my dreams proposed to me – with the most beautiful platimun-band almost 1-carat, F-colored fully-appraised diamond ring I could imagine. He was SO proud of himself for selecting such a high-quality ring (it was cute how much he wanted to impress me). He explained the process of choosing a great gem by using the 4 “Cs” – Clarity, Cut, Color, and Carat. He did an AMAZING job. This ring knew how to pass the sparkle right onto my face (resulting in giant smiles, of course). It turned out that if it weren’t for a tiny scratch near the bottom of the stone it would have been deemed a near-perfect diamond and would have appraised about $30K. I always love it when I think about how my man saved up his money at 21 years old so that he could have it in time to propose to me on his 22nd birthday.
It was a beautiful proposal. His parents were in on it of course – I actually found out later that his mom hadn’t been surprised at all when he told them he was going to ask me to be his bride since she always knew he’d marry the first girl he dated. He had also fasted & prayed about this decision and had gone to pastors at our church for prayers and guidance. Anyway, when he came over to pick me up he wouldn’t let me hug him for fear that I’d notice the wedding-ring box-shaped lump in his pocket. On the way to the restaurant his parents started talking about Mormon weddings (or some other type of wedding), and he was getting unusually annoyed at them & kept trying to change the subject. Hmmm… I should be honest, I kinda suspected that he was going to propose soon, but I thought it would be on my birthday the following month. So I definitely noticed all these weird things, but he’s always been kinda un-typical, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.
So we get to Beni-Hana and of course we have to wait for our table, so he suggests taking a walk around the back of the restaurant where they have a Japanese garden. I didn’t think this was strange since I had never been there before and he has always been a little adventurous. The back of the restaurant was on the edge of the Intercoastal, so he suggested we wait to see if any boats go by. Poor guy. Not a single boat went by (which was very odd considering it was a gorgeous October evening). Finally he just got down on one knee *romantic sigh* and proposed. It was the best moment of my entire life up to that point. Of course, I said yes (after asking if he was sure hahaha) and we got ready to go back in. There was another restaurant across the canal, and a couple of ladies who were out on the balcony started shouting & cheering. It was pretty funny. We went back in and I was crying and his mom asked to see the ring and his dad gave him a huge hug. It was such an amazing evening.
But I lost the ring this week. I only noticed it was missing a couple of days ago, and I’ve checked in the usual places. No dice. I’ve been so stressed this week – between being sick, the hubs getting sick, Julieboo teething, Sugarbear starting Girl Scouts, housework, school work, etc. it hasn’t even sunk in that my ring could be gone for good. I’m planning to rip the house apart this weekend and I’m praying that it turns up.
It took me a while to think of something to smile about in the middle of all of this, but here’s what I realized: a ring is just that – a ring. Sure, it’s a symbol of a very special day in my life. Sure, it represents his love for me wrapped around my finger when he can’t wrap his arms around me. Sure, it’s expensive. Sure, it’s irreplaceable. But the fact of it is: that little hunk of metal and carbon could never save my marriage. It could never build my marriage. And it could never keep it strong. God has been my Diamond Ring in that sense. I look at him and all I can think about is how BLESSED I am. How I could NEVER have found him on my own since I was pretty screwed up relationship-wise. How difficult I can be to live with and how CRAZY patient he is with me. How we are 10 years in and we love each other more than we did the day we made it official. And after realizing all of that I’m thankful that God can never be “lost.”
P.S. – I found my ring the day after I posted this. Yippee!