As requested, here is my Proposal Ring.
And the concrete details. It was designed by Paloma Picasso, made of hammered white gold with one small diamond, and sold by Tiffany & Co. I didn’t mean to have a designer ring, we just ran into it. By the way, Wikipedia tells me we can refer to the venerable retailer as either Tiffany or Tiffany’s. I appreciate flexible colloquial language, don’t you?
As to the ephemeral details, ah, well, I have to tell you something. I find that with these wedding stuff I’ve bumped right into an inner cairn of privacy, stone markers on a field road. You all asked about my ring before I’d set up formal signposts, really before I knew the direction at all.
So I answer now, as you’re my friends, and who am I to close gates without an explanation? Going forward, I just want you to know, if details never show up, if some bits of this wedding, or other weddings I may have had, never show up here at all, I’m as surprised by my need for privacy as you might be.
With that, the Proposal Ring, in situ.
At many points in previous years I might have thought that I wanted, almost needed a great big diamond. Time came, not so. Significant Other was willing to go big but I had not a flicker of interest. And yet, I did very much want an actual proposal. He and I picked out rings together.
I said “Yes,” with endearments.
Once married, I’ll take this ring and wear it on the right hand occasionally, stacked with the band my mother and stepfather gave me years back, and maybe something from my dad’s family. I’ll wear my wedding band, all the time, on the left. All the time has so many meanings now.