The ring I wear on my left hand has a history. Its journey with me began in a little black velvet bag.
When Jeffery was 19 he decided it was time to move out of his mother and stepfather’s house and out of our small town and leave the grocery store he had worked at since he was 15. It was time to stop taking classes at the local community college and move to the city. It was time for him to spread his wings. We had been together for a year and a half and I still had two years of high school left. We loved one another and still wanted to be together, but Jeff needed a change. He decided he was going to move to the bay area, live with some family and take classes at the city college of San Francisco.
I cried for weeks before he left. And then I pulled myself together and tried to make the most of it and be hopeful. But it was difficult because I was an angsty and hormonal teenager.
We talked about getting promise rings because it felt appropriate. We were young, but committed to one another and going to try to make things work long distance.
But I was scared because we didn’t know what was going to happen.
On a warm summer night before Jeffery moved away, we were hanging out in my room after dinner. He pointed to a small velvet bag on my dresser and told me to look inside. I had noticed it earlier that evening but hadn’t opened it (which is totally out of character). I reached in a pulled out a gold ring with twelve (!) diamond. And it fit! I was shocked.
I put it on my left ring finger, where it has remained for the last six years. When we were in Florence two Aprils ago it turned into an engagement ring, and come January it will be my wedding ring (until we can find and afford a vintage art deco diamond).
The ring was once given from Jeffery’s dad to his mom, and she gave it to him to give to me.
For now, it’s perfect. Understated, elegant, classic. I have loved it for as long as I have had it. It may sound silly, but at age 16 it was a great comfort having a diamond ring on my finger. And Jeffery only lived away for four months (and visited every weekend) before moving back to be with me.