These rocks won't lose their shape...

As promised, the story of the earrings. I hope you all had a good holiday, I know I did!

The Christmas Earrings

What you first have to understand is that I don't own any fine jewelry. Oh, I've got a sapphire ring that used to belong to my grandmother, but it's a lab created sapphire in a yellow gold setting. It's not something I would wear.

Even my engagement ring was not a genuine stone. Oh, Ray and I argued over it. We were living paycheck to paycheck, just getting started, and I didn't want him to go into debt for something as silly as a ring. Granted, I was a little disappointed I wouldn't have anything, but he solved that by buying a lovely CZ in a white gold setting. I loved it, I treasured it, and I wore it always.

Until the stone fell out over this past summer.

Again, we talked about replacing it. I argued that spending money on a ring, either real or "created" was stupid, as we've just bought a house, and there are things that need doing here. He said he should have replaced the other ring by now, and he felt bad for not doing it. I admit, I did kind of want a new ring, but I couldn't bring myself to agree when we could use that money for so many other things.

So, on we went. He'd sometimes catch me admiring a ring in a jewelry store window, particularly Levy Jewelers on Broughton Street. It's one of the oldest jewelers in town, and they always had lovely items, especially earrings. Simple, not fussy, always classic.

Christmas was coming, and again, we decided to put most of our resources towards TFYO's Christmas, as we knew it would be her last to be the center of attention. I bought him a nice robe and a pair of slippers. Something I knew he needed, and fell within our budget.

On Christmas Eve we opened our family gifts, as we always do. I got a giant body pillow, which I sorely needed to support my very pregnant body. In my stocking the next morning was some gorgeous cream for my very tired feet, with a promise that it would be diligently rubbed into those feet every night if I wanted. I felt bad that I'd spent a bit more than he had, but he seemed happy.

TFYO was bashing on her drums when Ray said this:

"Don't you think it's time we got out Mommy's special present?"

I'm pretty good at figuring things out. It's tough to hide things from me in my own house. But somehow, he'd been hiding this "special present" for two weeks. And, even more amazing, TFYO was in on the secret and hadn't let slip a word.

Ray disappeared into our bedroom and returned with a tiny, red wrapped box. It had a ribbon on it from Levy Jewelers.

I immediately burst into tears. I didn't even open it at first. Just held it, and asked "How did you do this?"

"Well, I had a little help from my Christmas bonus."

This made me confused, because we all got gift certificates for ham from our employer this year.

"What, you traded ham for jewelry?"

"No, we had some gift cards left from that promotion we did this year, and D. (our general manager), let me have a couple as a thank you for taking care of the station this year."

"You didn't tell me about that."

"Well, no I couldn't, could I? It would have spoiled your surprise."

I tore off the ribbon and paper, and found that little, soft, gray box, and flipped it open.

This was inside:

"I know it's not a ring. I didn't have enough to get you a ring, but I wanted you to have something with diamonds. You deserve to have something with diamonds, even though you've never asked. One day, you'll have a ring to go with those."

Of course, at this point, I was sobbing like a baby, trying to get words out, and failing miserably. All I could do was hug him, and snuffle into his shoulder. My big, strong, generous husband, who always worries about letting me down, always succeeds in lifting me up.

I loved the earrings, tiny and perfectly matched, but mostly I loved that he tried so hard to make me happy. And I was incredibly proud of TFYO for keeping the secret. Of course, the thing she remembered most about the trip to the jewelry store was that she got home made brownies from one of the clerks, but I'm proud of her nonetheless.

So, if I sometimes seem to go on a bit about how wonderful my husband is, at least now you have some proof, and not just the prattling of a woman in love. I don't always show my appreciation for him as much as I should. I know I don't. But he really is a great guy.

And I love him.

PS. I'm sitting here crying into my keyboard again. Damn pregnancy hormones, making me all weepy.