YAAAYYY!!! Martyn and I have been dating for five years, but I actually did not see this one coming. In hindsight there were hints that it might happen soon but I really hadn't thought much of it with all the stupid Christmas stress taking precedence. So after we woke up Christmas morning and exchanged our gifts to each other (and the stupid cats) the plan was to head over to Roswell to meet up with my mom at her new house and the rest of my immediate family. My brother was cooking the special breakfast that my Dad used to make for Christmas, and everyone seemed like they were getting frustrated that we were running late. The car was already packed, I was waiting on Martyn and wondering why the hell he was just dragging his feet. Then suddenly he tells me to, "Wait, there's one more thing" and starts digging around in the closet where he keeps his video games. I never play video games or go in that closet and start to wonder what is going on, but before I can think about it for too long he tells he to close my eyes...then he's down on one knee with this ring...and yeah. My initial response was actually just, "WHAT?!" due to my surprise at this very unexpected proposal. Then a few minutes later I remembered to follow up with..."Oh yeah, I mean...YES."
So yeah. The ring is perfect. Martyn knew that diamonds aren't really my thing and chose the best thing he possibly could have for me--moonstone and white gold, antique from the art deco era. Since the moonstone is so old it has a unique smokey quality to its surface that really brings out the layers of blue and reflected light within, kind of like a droplet of water or of course, the moon. There is a slight etched detailing on the sides of the ring and the setting is strong and simple. The Tiffany style prongs that hold the stone even remind me a little of tree branches framing a full moon at night. Even the box the ring came in is cool. It's this really banged up tarnished silver with black puncture marks all throughout. It looks like it's been through an explosion and it even creaks sometimes when I open it.
I am of course psyched about the whole thing. We're getting married this coming October the 31rst and there are going to be costumes involved. I'm not the sort that has been planning my wedding since I was four years old. In fact, I have never watched a chick flick in my life or even thought about my wedding until pretty much now. I feel that I probably have quite a bit of catching up to do, but I know I'll figure it out in the end. I can think fast, I'm creative, I have no regard for conventions or traditions and I have a damn good sense of humor, so hopefully at least one of these things is going to work in my favor. I think I want the shortest, most understated ceremony possible and then a really awesome and noisy party with electric guitars, crazy costumes and lots of alcohol. These are after all, some of the finest things in life.
Anyway, since my ring is from a time when ladies were dainty (or at least shorter that I am, I'm around 5'10") we had to take the ring to a jeweler to get resized. I of course had no clue about my ring size so I'm glad that we left that part up to a professional in Decatur. The jeweler was closed for the holidays so we have had to wait for quite a while. By some strange "coincidence" the date that my ring is ready for pickup is January 14th--the one year anniversary of my Dad's death. I generally don't believe in a whole lot of anything but this struck me as intensely interesting. What better way to spend what would have been such a sad day otherwise. One key quality about my Dad, especially while he was sick, is that he absolutely hated when people worried or were sad about him. He would put on a front, change the subject or do anything else in his power to stop people from dwelling on the messed up situation that fate had given him. He fought death like no one in the hospital had ever seen, using his last bit of energy to smile at us, make us laugh or even flick us off if he thought we were acting too sad. Maybe this world is made up of a series of random events, maybe not. All I know is that my Dad really did approve of Martyn (despite how much he loved to mess with him) and if he could have set something sneaky up with the date of the engagement ring corresponding with the anniversary of his death, he would have. I miss you Dad, and I can't wait to pick up my ring tomorrow!
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