Wedding Rings

Thirty years ago today, my dad woke me up by bringing me my coffee and sitting on my bed. We had one of those father-daughter talks. He told me he was not happy about my getting married, but he would get over it and we would have a good wedding - something to that effect. And that is what we did - Toby and I got married at 3:00 PM on June 27th at the Community House in Red River, NM. From there we walked down the street to the Mother Lode and had my reception (the party of the year). It wasn’t long into the summer that Dad and Toby got to know each other while doing carpenter work on the cabin. They eventually became good friends. Years later, Dad told me that I had done well - that he could not have picked a better husband for me - after all didn’t he raise me right?

The day before our wedding, things were busy in our little cabin. There was lots to be done and thing to pick up in Taos for the wedding. My brother, Craig, was making a trip to Taos to pick up several things like flowers, cake, etc. On his way back from Taos, he was suppose to stop in Questa and pick up our wedding rings from a friend who was making the rings. I don’t remember the girl’s name who made our rings. She worked at TR’s and said she could make the rings cheaply and we could design them ourselves. All sorts of things went wrong - wrong material came in, the wrong silver, wrong diamond, and at the last minute, she had to just make something for us. So, on the eve of our wedding, I was a little excited to see what my ring was going to look like. I followed Craig around all morning reminding him to stop and get the rings. Every time he turned around, I was standing behind him saying “Don’t forget my rings.” As big brothers usually do when being pestered by a little sister, he got mad. He finally turned and yelled, “Do you think I am some kind of idiot? Do you think I would forget your rings?” I hung my head in shame and said that I did not think he was an idiot and, of course, he would get my rings, and I did not say another word. Late that afternoon when he returned from Taos, I couldn’t contain my excitement as he unloaded wedding stuff. “Let’s see the rings!” I squealed. I will always remember the look on Craig’s face . He said, “I am an idiot.” He had forgotten to pick up my rings. I did not say anything to him knowing how he must feel - what could I say - I knew it would all work out. He drove back to Questa the next morning and picked up my rings. Both rings were a plain silver band with twisted braids edging the flat band. My ring had a quarter carat diamond setting in a rather tall prong. I thought my ring was perfect. Although the girl had said she would change our rings later, we never changed them.

Ten years later, Toby gave me his mother’s wedding rings - the ones his father had given her. They are gorgeous and I feel honored to wear them. I had my little ring made into a special ring for Toby. Sometimes, I miss that simple band with its one little diamond. It was me.

On my ring finger is Toby's mom's ring. Next, is the ring I had made for Toby using my diamond and band sometime around our 15th anniversary. On my pointer finger is Toby's original simple band. Mine looked just like his, except it had a diamond on a white gold prong.