You Dazzle Me

Our life is mostly simple things:

old boats afloat through flannel falls

then snowman winters and cold springs

until again sweet summer calls.

But looking back on forty years

there are moments that glisten

like a starry Kansas night or tears

in candlelight when we listen

to an old song we used to know,

the one that makes us think

we’re meant for dancing slow,

and so we do. Then, with a wink,

I dip you slowly to the floor

and softly land beside you with a sigh.

You smile. and with little more

than that dimple and a twinkle in your eye…

you dazzle me.

Tom Kapanka, for Julie, December 25,2019,

40^th Anniversary, June 28, 2020

The year 2020 has dampened a digit to turn the page, and it promises to be a very special year for Julie and me: our 40th Anniversary comes this June 28. 

A month or so ago, Julie shared an idea: she asked if I would mind if she took three significant rings I have given her over those 40 years and make them into one ring (so she could wear "them" all at the same time). As rings go, they are simple. 

The first was our engagement ring. I gave it to her just past midnight on New Year's Eve, 1980. A simple solitaire that reflects the limited income I had as a grad assistant at the time. I actually had to borrow some money from my grandmother to get it that Christmas Break. That's how broke I was back then. By today's standards, we really had no business "starting out" with so little, but we managed, and in looking back, I wouldn't change a thing.

The second was a gold band with ten diamonds that I gave her on our 10th Anniversary, and for years she wore the band and the solitaire together as an unmatched set. Together the two rings told a story as unmatched things so often do.

The third ring came with our 25th Anniversary. There were other special gifts at 5 and 15 and 20 years, including a diamond pendant that she is never without. That necklace played a part in the giving of the third ring in mid-December, 2004.

I'll not retell the story, but you can read all about it a collection of chapters I call "The Ache of Joy." It's about the Christmas when, with no warning whatsoever, Julie was suddenly scheduled for emergency open-heart surgery. Our next-door-neighbor Ike was the PA who "opened," and as he left the waiting room, I somehow had the presence of mind to ask if he could make the incision lower than the diamond pendant that he would see she was still wearing. He smiled and said, "I'll see what I can do. So Ike made a note of where that pendant hung before the pre-op nurse removed the necklace, and sure enough, he was able to make the cut below that point. Ike later told me that the surgeon, who has since become a good friend of ours through school, joked with him about the opening being a few inches lower than usual. Ike told him why, and they proceeded to give it a try. "The top part was like tent of skin," Ike later joked. In hindsight, it was silly of me to even think of making the request, but it does indirectly reflect a level of peace I had that there would be a future in which Julie would care that her necklace did not intersect with the scar.

The third ring (in the center of the three in this picture) was  intended to be a Christmas present, but the joy of having Julie come through the surgery prompted me to present it to her on the second day of recovery. The challenge was finding the right time in the hospital to give her the ring. Julie had a very "low battery" for a few days. When she was awake, she was very awake...in spurts, but her battery would die without warning. She could fall asleep while eating soup with the spoon half-way to her mouth. It was sad and a little funny. She also had almost no short-term memory. (I want to be delicate, but she was on morphine for pain at the time.)

I'm only  saying this because, I gave her the ring on the second day. She put it on and made a big fuss, etc. but she was not allowed to wear it in the hospital. So the third day, when I spoke of the ring, she knew nothing about it. So I made a big deal about give it to her again, explaining how each stone was for one of the girls, etc.  The fourth day, the same thing happened. I gave that ring to her four times before she remembered getting it.

So Julie's idea last month was to put the three rings above into one ring. I was slow to accept the idea because each of the rings has their own story, but I also appreciated the practicality of being able to wear all three rings at one time. The real kicker, however, was the fact that the cost of taking the diamonds from three rings and having them set in a new ring was surprisingly expensive. So much so, that as we were finishing the order, I happened upon the ring in the picture beside the poem above, which was only a bit more than the other project.

I called Julie over and showed her the ring. She loved it. I said, "Let's keep the three rings in tact. It makes no sense to have one ring and three empty settings when we can keep them and buy one like this for about the same cost. Someday the rings will be heirlooms and they're each special in their own way."  

Even though the cost was about the same, it was much more than we typically spend for Christmas, and she suddenly got cold feet about the whole idea. "Honey, it's not just Christmas; it's our 40th Anniversary. She told the salesperson she wanted to think about it, and we left. 

That was a few weeks before Thanksgiving, and she had basically let go of the idea barring a few subtle hints about how much she liked that exact ring I had picked out. To which, I replied that we had until June, and there's always Valentine's Day.  

Secrets can be kind or cruel--especially at Christmas. I never doubted I was getting the ring, and I secretly did just that, but keeping it a surprise for a month was very difficult. Sometimes the only "white" in a White Christmas is all the white lies a  husband has to imply. I even talked about other "gifts" I had no intention of buying just to keep Julie off my scent. 

Short story long (which could be the title of a bound version of this blog): She loves it...as I do her. It's dazzling... but she has dazzled me for decades without the help of diamonds.