diamond rings.

In February of 2006 Chris and I went shopping for diamond rings. We found one that fit my general idea, and Chris put a down payment on it. A few hours later, we headed to lunch (with my parents, actually!) and I burst into tears in the car. I wouldn't tell Chris why. He panicked. He thought I didn't want to marry him. Finally, he got it out of me: "I don't want that ring!" I cried. I felt so guilty that he had put money down on it, and then I changed my mind. "I can get my money back, and we can find you the one you want," he relied. Whoops. My bad. I wiped my eyes and headed in to lunch.

A month later I found my perfect ring at a jewelry store in my hometown. The next day Chris proposed. I had my ring. And I had my man.

In Idaho last week, I headed back to the hometown jewelry store and got my ring "dipped", a service they offer that makes your rings look brand new and perfectly shiny. Nothing like dipped diamonds to make you feel like a giddy newlywed.

And this week I lost my rings. I couldn't find them anywhere and panic set in. I cried a few times, and looked and looked. Chris and I discussed the possibility of getting a solid band to replace it, as new diamonds would be out of the question. My heart hurt over them.

And then . . . I found them. Under a pile of clothes, under a pile of pacifiers that the babies won't take, in a glass bowl on our dresser. Such relief. 

I've been wearing those rings for 6 years today. I've seen a lot of rings since then, and I've never seen one I love more. They are still my perfect rings. 

And he is still my perfect man. 

When you know, you know.

It has been a truly wonderful, 

truly crazy,

truly fabulous 

6 years.

I couldn't love him more.