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brightrosefoxA fascinating conversation on the train.
The woman sitting next to me looked at my engagement ring and said, "How pretty. It looks like an Ouroboros."
Surprised, I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
The ring is rose gold, with the center diamond, a round cut brilliant, in a very low bezel setting of white gold. On each side are three tiny round diamonds with a pave setting etched into the gold in between each gem.
She asked me how the proposal went, and about me and and my husband. I told her the whole story about the ring, which had her grinning and shaking her head. I had started with the Las Vegas hotel room and ended with the dinner table at his parents' house where I'd been living with him. I told her how Adam had found the silver original versions of the wedding rings which had been our promise rings, and how his uncle had copied them using green-gold electrum for the wedding rings themselves. I told her about the wedding.
After a minute of thought, the woman asked me, "Your future-mother-in-law offered to take you to Pennsylvania and her brother's jewelry shop, to pick out a different engagement ring. Do you ever regret not taking the offer when you had the chance?
Ah. She must have heard the tone in my voice when I talked about the giant heirloom diamond platinum ring.
"Yes, sometimes," I admitted. "Recently Adam said he would have given me something completely different if his mother hadn't beaten him to it. And I don't know why, but I've been thinking about that too much."
"From what I gather, just from all this," my companion said slowly, "you're still slightly bitter because his mother seemed to take so much control away from the two of you regarding wedding preparations, but especially starting with her giving Adam that big ring instead of him giving you one of his own choice. And you wish you'd had the presence of mind and the assertiveness to request that chance for a different ring, mainly because you believe a proposal shouldn't have to involve such a tangible push from an overbearing parent. You honestly regret being so introverted and shy and too eager to please, at that one moment at the dinner table. And even when you had your mom's jeweler friend put some of the diamonds into this band here so you could have your own personal ring, you still wished you had spoken up back then."
I blinked, speechless. "Wow. You're good. You're not a psychologist, are you?"
She smiled. "My mother was."
I nodded. "Ahhh, okay."
"My name is Lisa, by the way," she said, and I told her my name and we shook hands. "You've obviously been carrying this around in your subconscious for a while," she added. "Maybe you should talk about it to your husband. I know that won't change much, but it'll give you piece of mind." She looked at the ring again. "It really is unique. Besides, I'm not big on prong-setting solitare stones anyway."
I laughed a little. "Thanks, Lisa, I really appreciate this. I was starting to think I was being petty and whiny."
She laughed too. "Nah, not at all. These things do matter. And it's not like you've been bitching and complaining constantly. I'd say you're handling it really well. You may just need to get some things off your chest just to let it go."
I nodded. "I need to remind myself that I still got what I wanted, which was a life with the man I love, regardless of how it happened."
Lisa grinned. "There you go."
We were quiet for a few more stops, and then as the train began to slow down at a station, she stood up. "This is my stop. I'm glad we talked."
"Me too," I smiled.
"I might see you around, you never know. Take care, Joanna."
"Thanks, Lisa."
I got off at my own stop a couple of stations later, feeling much lighter.
(Note: While I remember the conversation, the transcript may not be completely word for word. But that was the gist of it. She really was a sweet lady)
The woman sitting next to me looked at my engagement ring and said, "How pretty. It looks like an Ouroboros."
Surprised, I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
The ring is rose gold, with the center diamond, a round cut brilliant, in a very low bezel setting of white gold. On each side are three tiny round diamonds with a pave setting etched into the gold in between each gem.
She asked me how the proposal went, and about me and and my husband. I told her the whole story about the ring, which had her grinning and shaking her head. I had started with the Las Vegas hotel room and ended with the dinner table at his parents' house where I'd been living with him. I told her how Adam had found the silver original versions of the wedding rings which had been our promise rings, and how his uncle had copied them using green-gold electrum for the wedding rings themselves. I told her about the wedding.
After a minute of thought, the woman asked me, "Your future-mother-in-law offered to take you to Pennsylvania and her brother's jewelry shop, to pick out a different engagement ring. Do you ever regret not taking the offer when you had the chance?
Ah. She must have heard the tone in my voice when I talked about the giant heirloom diamond platinum ring.
"Yes, sometimes," I admitted. "Recently Adam said he would have given me something completely different if his mother hadn't beaten him to it. And I don't know why, but I've been thinking about that too much."
"From what I gather, just from all this," my companion said slowly, "you're still slightly bitter because his mother seemed to take so much control away from the two of you regarding wedding preparations, but especially starting with her giving Adam that big ring instead of him giving you one of his own choice. And you wish you'd had the presence of mind and the assertiveness to request that chance for a different ring, mainly because you believe a proposal shouldn't have to involve such a tangible push from an overbearing parent. You honestly regret being so introverted and shy and too eager to please, at that one moment at the dinner table. And even when you had your mom's jeweler friend put some of the diamonds into this band here so you could have your own personal ring, you still wished you had spoken up back then."
I blinked, speechless. "Wow. You're good. You're not a psychologist, are you?"
She smiled. "My mother was."
I nodded. "Ahhh, okay."
"My name is Lisa, by the way," she said, and I told her my name and we shook hands. "You've obviously been carrying this around in your subconscious for a while," she added. "Maybe you should talk about it to your husband. I know that won't change much, but it'll give you piece of mind." She looked at the ring again. "It really is unique. Besides, I'm not big on prong-setting solitare stones anyway."
I laughed a little. "Thanks, Lisa, I really appreciate this. I was starting to think I was being petty and whiny."
She laughed too. "Nah, not at all. These things do matter. And it's not like you've been bitching and complaining constantly. I'd say you're handling it really well. You may just need to get some things off your chest just to let it go."
I nodded. "I need to remind myself that I still got what I wanted, which was a life with the man I love, regardless of how it happened."
Lisa grinned. "There you go."
We were quiet for a few more stops, and then as the train began to slow down at a station, she stood up. "This is my stop. I'm glad we talked."
"Me too," I smiled.
"I might see you around, you never know. Take care, Joanna."
"Thanks, Lisa."
I got off at my own stop a couple of stations later, feeling much lighter.
(Note: While I remember the conversation, the transcript may not be completely word for word. But that was the gist of it. She really was a sweet lady)
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no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 05:17 pm (UTC)I normally let typos go with no comment, but this one impressed me because of an interesting coincidence. I just came from a talk on bees moments ago! I had to read the sentence twice to make sure that my brain (still thinking about bees) had not simply made a subconcious alteration.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 06:40 pm (UTC)I wanted to tell you that though I haven't been commenting much, I have been following your updates regarding your fibro diagnoses, and I just wanted to tell you how very lucky you are that you found a doctor who treats the illness with the seriousness it deserves. I have a couple of people on my flist with Fibro and they've been treated very badly by doctors who don't believe the condition exists. I really hope that now they know your problem, they can control it. Please keep us updated!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 06:45 pm (UTC)Thank you, that is encouraging. I am very glad the doctor didn't give me another runaround and went straight to the point. I had assumed she was one of the disbelivers, so it really bowled me over when she actually diagnosed me. I know how long it can take.
I will certainly keep posting, now that I know people don't mind my complaining -- after all, this journal is an outlet. Heh.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 10:04 am (UTC)thank you for writing about it from the other side.
i'm glad. to know. ah, i can't write about this, it's too weird.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-29 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 11:25 am (UTC)