When I was 13 my great grandmother pulled me aside to give me a piece of sage advice. Ok. So it didn't really look like that. My family never does things that way. We are a family (my mom's side) chuck full of loud, bossy, sometimes brassy or crass, animated, emotional women. My great grandma yelled at me to listen to a what she had to say. I was kind of thrilled. This would be the very first piece of advice that my grandma would give me and I was expecting something... well... I'm not really sure but you always read about the advice that people get when their great grandmother calls them aside so being the strange book nerd that I am (I know, hard to believe huh?) I expected something that would be found in the pages of a novel. Instead the conversation went something like this: "Jasmine! Listen here", Me: "What?", Gma: "Do you have a boyfriend?" Me: "No." Gma "That's fine, you just need to remember one thing when you do get one", Me: "What's that?", Gma: "Diamonds are a girls true best friend." End of discussion. Translation: "Men really aren't worth much it's just the stuff they give, especially diamonds." Proven out by that family of women who received everything from diamonds to mink coats to motorcycles... etc. from men all of the time.
Now I may not be quoting my conversation verbatim considering it has been a fair amount of years but that is how I remember the conversation going down.
Day before yesterday SM took me to the jewelry store in the Mall of America, we don't have a Helzberg anywhere near here and that is where our wedding rings were purchased at. We went to renew our ring insurance to the new lifetime coverage that they are switching to as our insurance had run out. My wonderful SM got me an early anniversary present, the second band to my wedding ring. Everyone say "aawww". It really is beautiful. I never thought that I was a diamond girl and still as a general rule I prefer other types of stones or no stone at all in my jewelry but when it came to an engagement/wedding ring I found that my heart had been softened towards that particular type of stone. But what my grandma failed to tell me, or maybe it was that she missed out on it, or let it die in her own life, is that it isn't the stone that are your best friend but the wonderful man that is giving it.
And there you have my sappy, quite early, anniversary blog. I won't burden you with another. Please throw your tissue in the trash by the door as you leave.