Thursday, 3 October 2013
the ring thing...
But this first one, this engagement ring came to us via an antique shop in Kati Kati, New Zealand. Joe and I had been skirting around 'the future' on this trip to see my sister and her then boyfriend in 2000. He bought the ring and took until 24 hours later to pop the question in the campervan in which we were staying, suffering the worst flu imaginable. Can you remember the flu around that time? In Australia, we called it the New Zealand flu and over there, the Australian flu? Wherever it evolved, it was nasty. We had waited in such anticipation for this trip and spent it huddled by the fire, sweating out the illness, noses draped in tissues.
When Joe asked me to marry him, I found it hard to take seriously the pyjama-clad, Kleenex laden, unshaven man in front of me. I said to ask me again when he'd showered. And then again when he was dressed. And then said yes. We figured if we wanted to marry each other when we felt so sick and looked so dreadful, that it was a good omen. I do laugh when I hear about other people's engagement stories, in contrast so romantic to our fluey tale, a camper van rather than a rose petal filled hotel room.
But I digress... Uninscribed, we know nothing of the ring's origins. And now a small piece of it is missing. It's kind of like losing a tooth, but if I put it under my pillow, there will not be something there in the morning. One day we will fix this ring, but until then, it will be remain, gap-toothed and safe from further losses. Only valuable in terms of the immense meaning behind it, not a calculation of however many months' worth of Joe's wage, just a little something picked up in a far away place and something to join us for eternity.