My anniversary is 6 weeks away, but I already have my first gift. It's a huge sparkler on my hand, a one carat diamond solitaire. I have never owned a diamond this large.
It's not from my husband, my kids or my mom. It's from a girlfriend of mine; interestingly, she also bought the wedding band I'm wearing. I've worn it for longer than I wore the one my husband bought.
We do not have a strange marriage that should end up on "reality" TV. My girlfriend just happens to value jewelry, and the more expensive it is, the better. She sees the need to give it to me precisely because I do not buy it for myself (a trait she finds to be very odd). I was reluctant to replace my wedding set; she was not.
When we picked out my wedding set more than a quarter century ago, I felt as if it was my one and only chance in life to own a diamond. I have always liked delicate jewelry (despite being told that large women need large jewelry to look "balanced," and the fact that society preaches that women should feel that bigger is always better, jewelwise). We went shopping together; my husband said, "I'm not picking out something you might hate." I chose an interlocking wedding set, vaguely filigreed, with three small diamonds on the engagement ring and one on the wedding band. One of the most romantic things my husband ever said was uttered there in front of the jewelry counter. As I stared at my left hand, he said, "So. Can you look at that every day for the rest of your life?" I could.
The first day I wore it, I sat through a green light just staring at my ring. I loved it. I truly wanted to wear it every day for the rest of my life. I was never one of those women who wanted to "trade up."
So, of course, I lost it.
Not all at once, mind you. First I started losing stones. The settings on my rings were the kind that held the diamonds in a raised setting with four prongs. I'm not up on jewelry terms; I don't know what it's called. I discovered quickly that if I wasn't careful, I'd put the ring straight through pantyhose while I pulled them up. I shredded several pair. It also tended to catch on things. After a while, the prongs would pull out or the gold would wear thin, and a stone would fall out.
The first time it happened, I was devastated. Even though it was a fairly inexpensive fix, it just didn't feel the same, having a replacement diamond. After the second and third times, the jeweler made the prongs bigger and sturdier. I still lost another stone, a different one.
I set the ring aside - in my jewelry box, I thought - until I could take it in to the jeweler again. We'd just moved, taken in two extra kids and were expecting a baby, so the repair had to wait. When we were ready, weeks later, to fix it, I couldn't find the ring. I looked everywhere. I cannot imagine, to this day, where it went. I know I put it somewhere I thought was safe, but safe does not equal nonexistent. I effectively hid it from myself.
I looked even in places that felt ridiculous. Its whereabouts remained a mystery. They still are.
I decided that I'd wear another ring, just until we found mine. I owned a couple of lovely cubic zirconia rings; they'd been free gifts when I agreed to "examine in your home, for 14 days without obligation," a full matching set containing the ring, a necklace, a bracelet and earrings. I also got an onyx bracelet that I loved and a couple of other pieces the same way. (I was sure that the company would stop offering, but they did it repeatedly, so I got some lovely things that way.)
No one ever noticed my wedding ring, but people frequently noticed my CZ ring. The stones were huge in comparison. I actually got quite irritated at the compliments after a while. I switched from one CZ ring to the other, but they were both large, so people still noticed. It annoyed me that nobody ever complimented, or even noticed, the ring that I loved, but they swooned over these placeholder rings.
So, I bought a thin gold band. Very thin, because as I said, I like delicate jewelry, and because it was inexpensive. After all, I'd put my real ring back on as soon as I found it.
I killed at least two, and probably three, bands before I gave up. They would bend, break, unroll and generally come apart. I don't think I'm that tough on my hands. It's not as if I have a manual labor intensive construction job or anything. From the look of the rings, you'd think I'd have bruises, cuts or missing fingers. My skin was always fine, but the rings were very much worse for wear. In fact, they became likely to hurt me themselves, with sharp bits sticking out.
I gave up and went without a ring.
It made my girlfriend Cheryl, mother of my older two daughters' best friends, slightly crazy. She knew my ring was lost, but could not fathom why I walked around bare handed.
After about three years of this, my daughter said, "Cheryl wants to know what kind of ring you like."
"Why?" I wanted to know.
"She wants to get you one."
"Tell her not to worry about it."
"She's getting you a ring, Mom. Just tell me what you want."
Well. "If I had it to do over, I'd get just a gold band." I still think my ring is gorgeous, but let's face it, it had also proven to be a hassle. Plus, I may never see it again. Nothing was going to fall out of a plain gold band. I'd have no reason to set it aside and lose it. I passed my ring size along to Cheryl.
She got me the biggest band I could imagine. It's thicker and wider than most men's rings. It felt as if it went halfway up to my knuckle and weighed five pounds. My hand felt so heavy! I sometimes wondered if I could still bend the finger.
Her instincts proved better than mine. It's been at least 8 years, maybe closer to 10, and I've never had a problem. It doesn't bend, break, lose things, chip - this ring is impervious to whatever killed its less sturdy predecessors. And since I never take it off, it can't get lost.
With our 25th anniversary coming up, Cheryl wanted to get something special to celebrate. Naturally, she thought of jewelry. She got me this huge solitaire, designed to ride above my gold band.
I was amazed that she remembered my size. She also, apparently, remembered the hassle with the diamonds falling out, because this setting is one I don't think I've ever seen. It's solid around the sides, and the top has a lip that rolls over the edge of the diamond. It's never going to fall out, and it's so smooth it won't snag on anything. I cannot quite believe that she got this for me. I'm sure she can't afford it, either, but that's another story.
Now, the set really does go halfway up to my knuckle. It's much larger than anything I would ever have picked out. It's gorgeous, and I love it for aesthetics sake, and also because I know the thought that went into it.
I have new worries, though. Am I more likely to get mugged? Should I leave it at home when I go on vacation? They always say not to take expensive jewelry on vacation. But if I'm leaving it at home, why would I own it?
I'll stop worrying. I'll enjoy it. Happy anniversary to us.
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