The story about my ring begins with a story about my mother’s ring.
Years ago, my mother had a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL (like hallelujah choruses sang in its presence) ring. Whenever she wore it, I’d ask if I could try it on. It was simple: a thin white gold band and a big, sparkly diamond. In my eyes, it was perfect.
In her eyes, it was too simple. Too young. She needed a setting with a bit more presence. When she told me this, I begged her not to change it and to save the ring for me! This was a few years ago, when I had no mister. She laughed and assured me that the ring my future fiance chose for me would be just as beautiful, if not more so. She ended up with a gorgeous, stately setting. And, eventually, I ended up with my dream ring.
And now I present…
in a picture taken on my cell phone the day after the proposal…
my simply gorgeous, crazy-on-fire-sparkly ring: