I never really introduced you guys to engagement ring., but I will fill you in on a little secret. There was another ring before this one came about. I never actually got to see that one in person, only a cell phone picture. Apparently a week before Mr. W asked my father’s permission to marry me, he had already purchased a ring. He and two of his friends went to the jewelry store and it was a done deal. He told me it was such an intense moment for him because he knew NOTHING about what I liked.
Throughout our 12 year courtship, I never brought up rings. He asked me once what style I liked back in high school and I think I told him I liked princess cut because that’s what my mom had—that’s really all I knew. We had talked about marriage when we were teenagers, but it never crossed my mind that it would actually happen because we were so YOUNG.
Now I imagine his little bubble was burst because when he took the ring home to show his mother and his cousin (Best Man Doobie), they both said to take it back and let me pick out a ring—really trying to tell him nicely that they didn’t like it. It wasn’t until recently that BM Doobie teased Mr. W one night and admitted that the ring was ugly and told me he’s glad I didn’t have to wear it. (That’s how their relationship is. Extremely harsh but real with one another.) It was probably one of the funniest debates/arguments I’ve heard from them, but I didn’t laugh in front of Mr. W, btw.
Now I’ll say this—if I would’ve known this happened, I would’ve never picked out my own ring. I just think that with all the effort he put into it, and the fact that he actually went and bought one, I would’ve said yes to a Cracker Jack ring if he asked me. It’s so amazing to me, because almost every time I look at my ring, I’m just still in awe just because of the symbolism behind it. But it doesn’t hurt that it’s beautiful to me.