The last day of the Writing 101 challenge could be very simple or very difficult, depending on the person and the object chosen. I think it’s an excellent way to end the challenge, myself, so let’s get down to it.
Christmas 2007 was like any other Christmas with J and I. We’d spent too much money on each other, as usual, even though we weren’t exactly swimming in funds at the time. We’d crammed as many decorations as humanly possible into our duplex rental because we’re strangely festive for non-religious folk. We’d done all the usual traditions, like watching Chevy Chase’s “Christmas Vacation” and “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas”. And my parents had driven up the night before so they could spend the day opening presents with us.
I honestly can’t remember a great deal about the present-opening of that year. I think that J’s parents gave him an air-hockey table, but I’m not positive. There were probably a lot of video games and movies, but again, I can’t say that for sure. The only thing that I truly remember is the last present of the day.
It had been hidden in the spare bedroom upstairs until all the other presents were opened. My father helped J take it downstairs, each of them holding an end of the almost-five-foot-long box. They placed it gently down in the middle of the living room floor, and then my parents left. I remember wondering why they didn’t stick around a little while longer, but at the time they had some excuse about having to get back home in time to have dinner with the rest of the family.
So there we were, just me and J and this enormous present, and I didn’t have the slightest clue what it could be. As soon as I began opening it I knew that something was amiss because despite its size the giant box shifted as though it had barely anything in it. As I ripped the paper away I found the box from the TV we had purchased several months prior. And inside that box? Another box.
Now I knew the game, but it was far from over. The first box had been stuffed with loose cardboard to keep the second box from shifting around. The second box was stuffed with loose wrapping paper to keep a third box from shifting around. And it went on like that…and on…and on…until finally, more than a little confused, I pulled a white envelope out of the last box. From inside the envelope I pulled a plastic sheath, in which was contained a beige-and-red pamphlet that read the words “Charm Diamonds” and “Warranty Plan”.
I hadn’t noticed when I was examining the envelope, but J had gotten down on one knee, so when I looked up from the warranty papers in bewilderment it was to see him kneeling there with a ring box in his hands. Yes, that was the day my husband asked me to be his wife, and presented me with the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen; a white gold band with a single oval-shaped diamond with an X cut into the top…a “princessa” cut.
At the time, of course, my mind was pretty firmly locked on the fact that I’d just been proposed to, but the choice of ring became a lot sweeter once I’d heard about the purchase of it. It seems that when relentlessly confronted with square diamonds (which he knew I don’t like) and bands with multiple small diamonds (which he doesn’t like), he eventually wound up telling a store clerk that he wanted me to have something unique, something that not every other girl we knew had.
It just seemed like a super-sweet gesture, and knowing that he’d picked out the ring himself (with minimal input from his mother) made it somehow that much more special.
I’ve never been a huge jewelry person, usually only wearing any on special occasions, but the only times this ring has left my finger in the past seven years has been when there was a chance of losing it, or getting it disgustingly dirty, or when my job required it (you don’t wear rings when you’re dealing with electricity and moving machinery). I still think it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, and it helps remind me (especially when I’m at work, 3000 miles from home) that I have someone who loves me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
Yeah, I think that qualifies as a “most prized” possession.