What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?

Or for a lost diamond?

I would dig through the garbage can. I would crawl the entire house on my hands and knees. I would unmake and then remake my daughter's bed. I would walk through the house in the dark with an LED flashlight looking for sparkle. I would sweep each hard floor and then sift through the debris. I would put off vacuuming the house before my party and then sift through the contents of the debris catcher. I would dig through the garbage disposal. I would obsessively do some of these things more than once.

And, still, no luck. Very sad.

Greg and I have been together since my senior year in High School. That was a long time ago -- we waited a LONG time to have kids. We dated and lived together in college. When Greg went to graduate school, I stayed in San Francisco to finish my undergraduate degree (he's a year older than I am). We missed each other a lot. When I finished my degree, he took me out to dinner to celebrate. We went to an amazing restaurant in Capitola called The Shadowbrook. Before dinner, after we'd ordered, he started talking about the future and what our plans were for the future and what I saw in my future. Given the big life goal, I'd just achieved, this didn't seem out of place so I talked to him about the future and that the ONE thing I knew was that he would have a place in my future. He liked me answer and sat back and smiled and then the waiter brought a covered dish and set it in front of me. I thought it was our appetizer and wanted to continue this big discussion so I didn't lift the lid. Greg got impatient and lifted it for me. There was a box on the dish. A black velvet ring box.

I'm pretty sure that my mouth did that perfectly round "O" thing. With shaking hands -- and prompting from Greg, I opened it and stared in delight at the beautiful ring nestled in the box. Greg looked most pleased and said, "So, I take it that's a yes." Somewhere, my young self had the moxy to look up and say, "I don't remember hearing a question." And, so Greg asked me to marry him. And, I did say yes and the waiters all clapped and cheered from where they were all watching this drama play out.

I don't remember what I ate that night. I don't remember what else we talked about. When we got back to Greg's parents' house, all our local friends and my sister were there to celebrate with us. What I do remember was how right I felt when I saw that ring. A glittery, shimmering tangible symbol of Greg's love for me and our plans for our life together.

The story gets even better. Greg was a poor grad student but he's a smart, determined man and where there's a will, there's a way. He took a jewelry making class and made my engagement ring. He asked his family for gold -- broken jewelry, whatever. Part of my ring is from some of his grandmother's old bridgework! He made the ring and it's beautiful. He took it to a wonderful jewelry shop in Cambria by the Sea and bought a diamond and had them set it on his ring. This is what he gave to me. Thankfully, only the diamond was lost. I still have the ring which was made with much love. The diamond can be replaced but it won't ever be the same.

Oh, the follow-up is that the next year, I also took the jewelry class with Greg and we made our wedding bands together. Very special.