For those of you who've followed my blog, at least since December 2009, you'll know I've been without Chris's ring on my finger, representing my love for and commitment to him, since then. I still believe I lost it somewhere around the house, but, as yet, it hasn't turned up. I'm hopeful the next time we move–whenever that may be–the ring will turn up. I wore it for about sixteen years, it was bought under very happy circumstances, and losing it felt awful.
To mark the occasion of our twentieth, I asked Chris in late 2011 if we should buy new rings, especially since I no longer had one. He said sure, and I thought there was no better time to do that than when we received a little money back from the Canada Revenue Agency. Since I look after everything in our household, I made sure we ordered the rings and paid for them before we found some other place to spend our income tax refund money.
And where did we go to buy our new rings? Where else? To Shamin Jewellers, the same place we'd bought our original rings (although Shamin's is no longer located in Metropolis at Metrotown, having since moved across Kingsway in Burnaby). There was never any question in my mind we'd return there when the time came to buy new rings, whatever the occasion–for nostalgic reasons, as well as how good we'd felt during that initial transaction.
On that cold and rainy, early March Saturday morning, Chris and I stood in front of the counter at Shamin's. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to tell our salesperson, Deborah, the circumstances surrounding the purchase of our first rings. I said the young man who'd helped us all those years before–who we learned is a nephew of the owner and was no older than fourteen or fifteen at the time–had been utterly unfazed by two men buying identical rings for each other. I said that had gone a long way toward legitimizing the love Chris and I shared, and our commitment to each other as a couple.
Before long, we were joined by the manager, Shamar, whom I'd seen working in an office at the back of the store. At some point–I don't know how she did it, because I recall her being with us virtually the whole time–Deborah must have told Shamar about us. I repeated Chris and my story to him, and he was thrilled to hear our first experience had been such a happy one. He congratulated us, and we talked about his nephew, who is now in his mid-thirties and lives in New York, where he designs custom jewelry only the one percent can afford.
And what type of rings did Chris and I buy? As much as I'd hoped we'd choose something completely different from before, we didn't. We tried on many different styles but kept coming back to the same one. Not only is it reminiscent of the style of our original rings–a simple, ten-carat gold band with a thinner white gold band around the middle–but also it's wider (not excessively so). I look at it this way: our new rings pay homage to the past twenty years with the same style, yet recognize the enduring nature of our relationship with a thicker band.
Chris and I couldn't be happier with our selection. And, as we left Shamin's, Shamar reminded us that twenty-five years is also a milestone in any relationship. Yes, it is. I couldn't agree more.
To read the original post about losing Chris's ring, please click here.
To take a look at the Shamin Jeweller's website, please click here.