You may or may not know that Jessica made me a quilt:
Ok, so technically it’s not a quilt. But what it IS is, is fantastic. And it’s not really “mine” anymore anyways, not since we started living together and getting engaged all the time, because as we like to say to each other, “what’s yours is mine!” But I totally act protective of it, as males frequently do in the wild. She made the quilt before she moved in, slaving away into the wee hours of the morning, and then on my birthday she came over and put it on the bed as a surprise. I walked in to find the above scene, and needless to say, I totes freaked!
She’s now hard at work on another one, using the sewing machine so graciously bestowed upon her on her birthday by Cristin and Greg, and this time it’s (a) going to be an honest-to-goodness quilt and (b) might blind you with its colors. It’s also going to be beautiful, and it’s sort of tickling to think that it probably will be in our family for many, many years. It is a piece of family history that is beginning now, not 100 years ago from a great-grandmother. 100 years from now, it could be in the hands of a great-granddaughter – we might give it to a son or daughter, who might take it to college, then it might get passed on again. Not that our kids are going to get knocked up in college. You hear me, future kids? I mean it!
Anyway, this gets me to my point of this post: part of the reason I chose Jessica’s ring was that it was new.
After some looking around, I ended up with a choice between a vintage garnet ring, and the one I eventually got, which was a brand new sapphire. The garnet ring was really pretty too, with some intricate designs, but the stone was fairly large (I mean this relatively) and extended farther on the sides than the sapphire. There was a lot I liked about it, including the fact that it was old and already had a history. It’s an unusual thing to do, I realized, choosing between something brand new and something that might be decades old. I can’t think of another time I’ve ever made a decision quite like it, and I suppose might not again until I buy a house. This ring has been used by at least one other person and maybe more, was probably cherished and worn daily, and could tell hundreds of stories if only jewelry could talk, which of course is a ludicrous idea, made all the more ridiculous when you realize that just being able to talk does not mean you’re a good storyteller. So enough with the silly-talk.
There was an aesthetic concern and a practical one, too, with the garnet ring: I was not sure if the red of the stone would jive with Jessica’s jewelry style, and the size of the stone might have made it challenging to fit a wedding band next to it. I’m pretty sure Jessica would have loved a petrified onion ring, because she’s just so cool like that, but I obviously wanted to choose what I thought fit her the best, and there was something almost ethereal about the sapphire and the ring it’s mounted on that really screamed her name. Luckily there is a volume control on the stone.
So in the end it was a whole host of things that led me to choose the one I did. But one of the determining factors was the newness of the ring, the fact that it didn’t yet have a story and that it was sitting there, under a pane of glass, waiting to be bought, like a little puppy. An expensive, blue-stoned white-gold puppy that you can’t take with you in the shower or do manual labor with, just like regular puppies. And like the quilt, it stands to be in the Turner-Walker-Warner family for a long, long time.
Just like the puppy we’re going to get the next time we move.