It is difficult to improve on the custom of giving and receiving finger rings, which apparently dates back over approximately 6,000 years. However, I could not resist putting my own spin on this beautiful tradition, especially since I love looking down to gaze at the rings on my fingers and day-dream about how they came to be there.With the introduction of rings to my jewelry collections, I could not resist sharing, in my husband Josh’s words, the night he proposed to me and put a new beautiful ring on my finger:
“It happened last night, at 7:45 in a quiet corner of our new favorite neighborhood restaurant Vee Vee. We arrived at 6:00, and were seated at a table in the front bay window which, paradoxically, was the most secluded seat in the small 10-table restaurant. The food was exceptional, Jennifer had just licked clean her entrée plate, and I was still finishing mine.The conversation turned to a more quiet contemplation, and we stared deeply into each other’s eyes. REM was playing quietly in the background. I told her that I loved her, and whispered sweet nothings, as my hand concealed a ring box in my lap. As I asked her to marry me, I placed my hand on the table, still concealing the ring box. She glanced down, noticing something hidden underneath.She mumbled something. She will say later that she was overwhelmed by emotion and couldn’t speak…or maybe I wanted to hear her say it three times: “Yes! Yes I will marry you!”Only once I had secured, definitively, her answer, did I pull my hand away to reveal the box. I opened it slowly, focusing on her expression as she saw the ring I had commissioned for her.Delight!!! Jaw-dropped amazement, and a big smile that warmed my heart. The diamonds flashed red and orange, reflecting the light and deep orange color of the walls of the restaurant, and looking like they were on fire. Joy, pure joy, in each other’s company. It was a magical moment, it took her breath away. They brought us champagne, and we toasted to “happily ever after.”