This story carries a ring of love

We can’t find Deb’s rings.

More precisely, we can’t find two specific rings. Yeah, those rings.

Naturally, they weren’t with her other jewelry. It’s likely been months since Deb wore them regularly, and they’re probably sitting somewhere together.

---

We searched her room, the car, and all the odd corners. 

I tried calling out to Deb. “Honey, where are your rings?” No response yet. 

So, because it’s Thursday, the ring story.

Deb wasn’t big on fancy. During a visit to the shopping district known then as Downtown Disney, we found a cubic zirconia ring that looked just like a fancy diamond, so I bought it for 25 bucks and Deb proudly wore it everywhere.

Well, we’re dating and life is going splendidly, so we came to engagement time. Knowing my beloved’s sense of humor, I thought I’d get a cubic zirconia engagement ring, and then we’d exchange it for the real thing later.

That was the plan.

Oh, and gotta back up to the engagement. I decided to ask Deb’s hand in marriage during the Chronicle Christmas party, because I knew Deb would be at work and totally distracted.

I went to see Publisher Gerry Mulligan and laid out my plan. I asked him to call a company meeting during the Christmas party where we’d have a captive audience.

“It doesn’t matter what your message is,” I told him. “When you’re done, say, ‘Does anyone have a question to ask?’ And I’ll say, “Yes, Gerry, I have a question to ask.’ And I’ll pop the question to a beleaguered Deb, who will think I’m just trying to hog the spotlight until she realizes everyone is looking at her.”

I had two weeks. Go buy the Disney ring, get it sized, and I’m headed toward engagement city.

I took the day off work and headed for Downtown Disney. Went to every single store. No ring. Not the one we wanted. The one I knew Deb would recognize and we’d share an intimate laugh. That ring wasn’t there. I had no ring. And no backup plan.

Well, how hard can this be, right? Um…harder than you’d think. I stopped at a dozen jewelry stores between Orlando and Citrus County.I saw a lot of nice, bland, ordinary, and beautiful engagement rings. No Debs.

After coming into Crystal River, I stopped at Specialty Gems. Never been there before. I walked in and instantly realized it was a boutique, so unlikely to find my Deb ring here. Just as I’m about to leave, a voice behind the counter says, “Be right with you, Mike.”

Now I CAN’T leave. It’s a small place. That’s when I noticed in the display case a business card of the shop co-owner: Carol Kimbrough. Carol is one of those Citrus Countians whom I’ve known so long, I can’t recall not knowing Carol.

I told her my dilemma. Carol, like many folks, knew Deb very well and knew that we were together. She then suggested something I hadn’t considered: A custom-made ring specially for Deb.

And that’s what we did. Two weeks later, literally the day of the Christmas party, I picked up the ring and burst into tears. Happy tears. This ring, designed and created in love by our friend Carol, would rest on Deb’s finger.

Now I had to get it there.

This wasn’t one of those iffy marriage proposals. We talked about marriage and had joked quite often about how I’d do it. I was determined to catch her totally off guard.

She should have had a hint when I showed up for the company Christmas party in a dress shirt and tie. I alerted photographer Mike Pate (“Be on the lookout in case something interesting happens…”) and waited nervously for the “meeting” to start.

It went exactly as planned. Deb was stunned. She didn’t see it coming at all. As positive as I was that this would go well, there’s always a 1% chance of a humiliating rejection. That, “Will you marry me?” hung in the air for a beat or two before Deb said yes.

We picked out the wedding band with Carol and were married nearly a year to the day after the engagement.

Now Deb’s gone, and I can’t find her rings.

I try not to get weirded out by stuff like this. Deb lives forever in my heart; I don’t need trinkets to remind me of our love.

But that engagement ring, in particular, holds a very special meaning. I hope it turns up.

The emotional pain is easing some. I still stare off into space for long moments and can’t carry a conversation for more than a minute or two. But I’m finding peace in memories, and I hope the blog is back to its old obnoxious self very soon.

Enjoy this beautiful Thursday, friends.

Join the discussion on our Facebook page.

Support the blog by subscribing to JWC Inner Circle for 99 cents/month.

Individual donations are appreciated through Venmo, PayPal, or Patreon.