“I saw it glitter from the corner of my eye.”
I don’t know how “it” would glitter at all. There wasn’t any electricity in the house yet and the basement was dark. The only light we had was the flashlight pen I found in my purse. It was two weeks before we were to be married and we were moving an old washing machine from the basement and into the laundry room of the home we were to share together. I flashed the flashlight pen at his dust covered hands. In it was a diamond ring1 .
“Are you serious? One does not simply find diamond rings on the basement floor.”
My comment turned into a solid five minutes of cheesy Lord of the Ring jokes and we laughed at every one. Not because they were funny (they were funny) but because we were in love and excited. He put the ring in the palm of my hand and told me to hold onto it.
After we tried and failed miserably at trying to install the washing machine, we surrendered and laid flat out on the dark and empty hardwood floors. I dug into my pocket and retrieved the sweet ring and held it high so that we could both examine it.
“I wonder who it belonged to.” he said in a curious tone.
He took the ring this time and held it higher so that the sun from the windows could hit it and we stayed there for hours wondering. Who held the story of the diamond? Was it a sincere one? One full of love and joy? I’m not sure if we will ever know but what we do know is that the story is now ours to tell.