I still remember the day I met Dani for lunch to pick out my engagement ring. I fell in love with an oval cut solitaire. I left him to decide between a 1/4 carat and a 1/2 carat. (Im not cut out of the same cloth that these girls are who insist on rings that cost a small fortune, and Im still not sure if thats a good or bad thing) I ended up with the 1/4 carat probably in part because of my propensity for throwing my promise rings out the window or out the door or across the yard whenever Danis loyalty to me was in question. He has metal detected more than one time to find thrown away treasures that I decided I wanted back. Somewhere in the ditch across from the Methodist church is a 1/4 carat solitaire that I would dearly love to have now, but it went flying out the window one night because I felt betrayed. Still, I loved my little oval shaped diamond. I opted for a ring guard of my own making, a pair of sapphire and diamond channel set bands that I had soldered to it. When I was pregnant with Dedan, I hadnt been able to take my ring off for days. I woke up one morning with an imprint on my cheek where I had slept on my hand. When I looked to see what had caused it, I noticed my diamond was missing from my ring. I had to have my band cut off because I got too claustrophobic when they tried to get it off with twine. It was gone. I was sad. More than a year later I was digging through the workroom drawer at school when something caught my eye. It was my diamond. It had fallen out as I was putting something in or taking something out of that drawer. It also served as a confirmation to me that the decision I had made to reconcile our marriage was the right one. For some reason, I felt it would be safer in my mothers jewelry box, so I put it there because we couldnt afford to have it fixed then. Not too long after that, my dads accident occurred, and renovations had to be made to the house. I was horrified to walk in one day to find everything had been moved out of the gutted house. My diamond was lost again. I looked everywhere. They had taken everything to storage, but my mom had gotten everything of any value. She didnt remember seeing my stone. I looked and looked over the years. Every time I would run across something I thought it might be in, I would search with hope of finding it. Today my dad had me to hand him some of his treasures. For some reason, I cant even remember if I was putting something in or taking something out or just prowling, but I opened his top dresser drawer as I and everyone else have a million times. There in the bottom, and that you could see the bottom was a miracle, lay my diamond, found again. Hopefully, this time I can restore it to all its sentimental beauty.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 19:36:31 +0000
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