Jet's Version of the Story

My initial proposal was a grand plan, set for Valentine's Day of 2006. Everything had to be perfect, from a lovely bouquet of flowers to a gift basket complete with a promise ring.

And so I began putting it into motion - finding a host of Valentine's treasures to fill the basket, arranging the flowers and delivery and finding the perfect promise ring.

Well, who knew, rings come in SIZES, and I was stumped cause I had NO CLUE. How to get the ring size without giving up the game? So, I told her I was having something made for her - a slight misdirection - and asked for every possible measurement under the sun, including every single finger. This mystified her, and proved such an onerous task it was making her nuts. Then the measuring tapes went missing and eventually, I had to settle for just getting rings sizes, but fortunately, she was either kind enough to not let on that she figured it out or she was telling me the truth when she said it didn't occur to her what I was up to!

So, I ordered the ring and compiled my treasures - which I found didn't fit in the basket. Due to my spate of over-enthusiasm, they barely fit in two baskets. Ah. Well, now I had TWO baskets full of gifts and figured, what they heck, that'll be more fun. Overwhelming, but not a bad thing.

Then I visited my favorite florist, Wildflowers. We designed a spectacular arrangement, with some very unusual flowers and purple and black tulle. It was absolutely perfect, with delivery set for Valentine's morning. The baskets were hid, the ring tucked safely under one of the gifts, and I was all set for a special day.

So, there we are, the day before Valentine's Day with everything set, and she and I are out running errands in the afternoon. Out of the clear blue sky, she turns to me and says,

"I hope you're not planning to get me flowers for Valentine's Day."

I reach for casual, while trying to ignore the cold pit in my stomach.

"Um…why?" I ask her.
"Well", she says, "they're too expensive and they don't last, and I don't really feel like I need them this year."
I think for a minute and come up with my best rationale, my most intelligent answer,
"Ah…but…um…it's Valentine's Day."
She looks at me speculatively, "You weren't going to buy flowers tomorrow, were you? Did I upset you plans?"
And I smile, with relief, and very truthfully tell her, "Nope, I wasn't going to buy flowers tomorrow."
"Ok" she tells me.
I course I wasn't buying flowers. They were bought already. I was having flowers DELIVERED tomorrow, but that isn't what she asked, was it. And with that letter of the law logic, I dodged.

Fortunately, she did like them, a lot, as well as the gift baskets. And for the ring I got tears… (Ladies, when someone asks you to marry them and you look at the ring and burst into tears, that is ALARMING) … and finally a resounding yes.

So, that's why we're getting married on the Saturday after Valentine's Day - 1 year from the proposal (not to mention I get an anniversary I hopefully won't forget).

Of course, being thrilled with a formal proposal and a promise ring, Tia rushed off to tell absolutely everyone. She was so exuberant and happy, I was content to stand back and let her have the glory of spreading the news. She came back to tell me of each response with the same bubbly enthusiasm...until we came to her sister, Randi.

Now, don't get me wrong, Randi was thrilled by the news and excited to be in the bridal party and all kinds of happy for us. Randi has been very supportive all along. But, like her sister, Randi is another hopeless romantic and, in all innocense, she asked if I proposed on one knee (which I hadn't) and if the engagement ring (um, it was a promise ring) was a sparklie diamon (which it wasn't because we'd discussed that and she argued me out of it to save money). And so, with equal innocense, Tia told me all about Randi's comments because they'd amused her. I was, to say the least, horrified. I thought I'd created the perfect day, and here I was with this nagging pit in my stomach that convinced me I'd got it all wrong after all. Somewhere deep in my soul I suppose I'm terribly conservative (surprise Mom) and the lack of a "proper" engagement ring had been bothering me. I must have asked Tia some 50 times if she really liked the ring and if she was really happy. To her credit, she always assured me that she was, but still it bothered me - and then came Randi's comments.

I knew immediately I had to correct this blatent error.

And so I embarked on Plan B. I contracted an amazing find of a jeweler to custom design a unique, one-of-a-kind ring, with a solitatare diamond surrounded by the pride rainbow in multi-hued sapphires. I got a bottle of mead, put it on ice in the cooler, collected the ring and took my girlfriend for a moonlight drive to the beach on June 14th (4 months after the initial proposal) where I finally did propose correctly.

So, yes Randi, I did propose on one knee, with a sparklie diamon ring, over a glass of chilled mead at night by the beach. Tradition and custom were well satisfied, my conservative soul was satisfied, and we have a lovely memory and a fun tale to share.

And so - on to the wedding with the very memorable anniversary date.

Tia's Version of the Story

Three Rings for the Elven Kings…. Or to Engage Tink…

Part I- Ring, the First (The Irish)

A few years ago, Jet went to Ireland for an extended visit of her ancestral homeland. When she came back, among the gifts she showered me with, was a small velvet box. Inside this box was an emerald set claddagh ring, the traditional Irish wedding/engagement/friendship ring. I was so thrilled, it was beautiful… and as authentic as they come, handcrafted in Ireland by Irish jewelers. After a brief discussion of how it gets worn and which hand and which way to face the heart, etc. (A very complicated set of rules govern, and while the Irish seem to just know them, I needed to ask questions and be told the right answers)

In any case, the ring was placed on my left ring finger with the heart pointing inward. Basically the position to indicate wed or engaged. I was so thrilled. While Jet and I knew that we belonged together, it was the first step in publicly declaring our partnership as long-term and lasting. The claddagh was worn with a French poesy ring, a promise ring, which said "True love waits." It was the perfect expression of us, at that time. Waiting. We were waiting, committed but in a limbo of indefinite wait while other matters worked themselves out.

Part II- Ring, the Second (The Jewish)

Last year. Valentine's Day. The culmination of much discussion of tight finances and even tighter free time. I didn't want Jet to feel pressured into a huge and costly Valentine's extravaganza. So I tried to be reasonable, suppressing 30+ years of feminine thinking and Hallmark influences. I reached deep into my soul and strove for reasonable and frugal. And so it was that I told my beloved, the day before Valentine's Day, that I didn't really need flowers this year. Everyone knows that the florists double (at least) their prices for the holiday, and fresh cut flowers rarely last. Well, I thought it would be a relief, but maybe I waited too long, or maybe she just wasn't buying my reasonable act. But Jet looked somehow displeased by my revelation… but she accepted it. And, to a degree, I felt better or at least reasonably logical about the matter.

The next day dawned beautiful and bright. We began with a lovely breakfast at a nearby restaurant (probably my favourite way to start the day) and then a series of errands… amidst multiple stops at my house. The first one timed for the delivery of the most beautiful arrangement of flowers I have ever received…. Purple roses, Stargazer lilies, and a tulle wrap bow of black and purple. I was overwhelmed; the flowers were magnificent. And I have probably rarely felt better about my expressed wishes being flagrantly ignored!

Another stop home presented me with two gift baskets… and the complete amusement at realizing that we had both chosen the same Hallmark card for each other… talk about in synch! The baskets were chock full of fun and neat Valentine goodies… candles and stuffed animals and a tea mug and… "Pick up the cat" Huh? "The cat. Pick it up." So, dutifully I lifted out the small stuffed replica of our beloved Pharaoh cat and, much to my surprise, under the toy lay a small flat square box. Not a ring box mind you, but a jewelry box none-the-less. Eagerly I opened it, and found inside a beautiful silver band with the Hebrew quote from the Song of Solomon engraved on it. Ani Li'Dodi, Vi'Dodi Li. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.

With that she asked me if I would marry her… I think I lost my voice amid the tears, or maybe I shouted… I can't recall. I was so excited and so happy… frankly much of the rest of the day is a blur and all I can recall is staring at this most wonderful of rings… and being supremely happy.

And the beautiful flowers lived for more than a week… filling my house with their sweet perfume.

Part III- Ring, the Third (The Rainbow)

I guess this one I have to thank (or blame) my sister, Randi, for. On Valentine's Day, after getting engaged, I called my Mom and my sister to share the happy news. And my sister, gd bless her, is a romantic at heart and she wanted to know if Jet got down on one knee (uh, no) and if I got a pretty diamond (um. no) but she was still thrilled for us, even if a couple of traditions had been overlooked. I was amused by her romanticism and shared her comments with Jet. Little did I know that I had set a new pot of ideas roiling in my beloved's head.

Throughout the course of our relationship, one of our most favoured traditions is to "drive to water" this is usually done on a warm summer night when we are dying for a breeze … and truly there is no better breeze then a sea breeze (even the non-alcoholic version) So truly, I did not think it unusual that on June 15th she wanted to go out for an evening drive, or that said drive took us to Revere Beach (the closest Atlantic beach to Malden)

When we got there, I found out that she had a bit more of an elaborate plan… there was a cooler, with a chilled bottle of Irish mead, 2 glasses… everything we would need for an impromptu toast. So, in the semi-darkness we toasted each other and drank sweet wine (glasses held low every time a car passed, so as not to draw notice from the local police who frown on such things.)

Then a walk along the beach, and a few minutes to sit at the sea wall and watch the ocean and enjoy the breeze. And then, she drops to one knee and takes my hand…. I was so surprised… (See my LiveJournal posting below for more information) From her pocket she withdrew a small velvet ring box and wordlessly handed it to me.

I opened it to see the most beautiful and unique ring I had ever seen…. A beautiful and sparkling diamond Tiffany set above a channel of rainbow coloured sapphires, all set in white gold (since I never wear yellow gold) So, for those who wish to visualize, from left to right… channel with red, orange, yellow sapphire rounds, then diamond solitaire, then green, blue, purple sapphire rounds. She designed the ring herself, and I have never seen a more beautiful setting nor a more perfect expression of joy. I don't think I touched the earth for nearly a day afterward. Maybe more.

(For those who missed my June 15th LiveJournal babble about Ring the Third…)

Well, it's only taken me 19 hours to come down to earth long enough to type this in....

So, you will have to cast your selves back to last night.... a cool, breezy ocean front view... like right up at the sand/pavement line. The last lingering sweetness of chilled mead lingering on the taste buds, the delicious thrill of illicit behaviour adding it's own lovely spice mixing with the soft scent of clove smoke from my beloved partner's lips....

And then, the words of confusion.... startlement and that bubble of excitement that begins somewhere below your diaphragm and makes your breathe come in tiny little gasps....

"It seems that I, in my haste, made an error. A mistake that I want to correct..."

Is she *really* dropping to one knee on the sand covered concrete? Another bubble...

Those are her hands warming mine... what is that she is pulling from her pocket? Is it a small, dark velvet square? More bubbles...

The lovely silver promise ring I was given as a token of our engagement slips off my finger (okay, with a little effort) and in it's place... the most BEAUTIFUL sparklie ever!!!!

Words fail me and only the bubbles issue forth.... lifting me from this earth and turning the windswept view of Revere Beach (the correct side) into a fae paradise that only the poets and dreamers have truly seen...
I guess the third time really is the charm... this being the third engagement ring she has gifted me with.... and by far the most amazing.

So, to my beloved, thank you for giving me the most romantic proposal to treasure, along with the other ones that have added their own lovely sparkle to my memories and to our love.

And to my friends, I guess you will all have to put up with my new and long-lasting headache that requires my left hand to be pressed to my forehead in plain view for long stretches of time.... when I am not lost in the contemplation of the beautiful fire of my sparklie and of my romantic thoughts....

With love to all.

(oohh..... sparklie... pretty.... ooohhh.... nice cloud... is that the earth way down there.... oops... so much for more typing....)

bubbles. yup.

So, here I am. Three rings and very much engaged. And so much happier than the Elven kings. :-)