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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT May 6th Write about an object you own that has negligible monetary value, but is priceless to you. The Christmas when I could claim to be eighteen , my boyfriend surprised me with an engagement ring. He obviously hadn't heard my mother claim that Christmas engagements were considered bad luck. He'd only retired from competitive figure skating a few months before and still trying to decide what to do with his life and new free time. Paul himself was nineteen. He intended that I be a part of that future. He spent what precious scarce funds he had. No, really, this ring is not a piece of jewellery meant to dazzle and bankrupt the purchaser. At no point could I have hocked it to pay for a mortgage premium, or purchase a flash set of wheels. Well, okay, maybe I could've bought a new set of wheels, at the much-less-inflated cost forty plus years ago, but not the vehicle for them. This ring is tiny. First of all, I have tiny, child-size hands. My children have remarked that this ring looks like something meant to be a prize in a box of Cracker Jacks. Yes, it is gold, but the band fits no one else in my family. The single sparkling diamond is almost, but not quite miniscule. No one would refer to it as a rock, a chip of a rock perhaps. The thought of this gift is priceless. It represents a commitment, a promise. I did not require exorbitant bling to say yes. My future hubby believed in tradition, first an engagement and then a wedding. We married the following summer when we were both nineteen. About ten years ago, I drained the water from the kitchen sink only to discover that my diamond was missing. Fearing the worst and dreading its loss, I glanced into the strainer at the bottom of the sink and something caught my eye. There in a bubble, the errant diamond glistened. I scooped it out and carried it in my palm to my mate. I informed him that the engagement was off. He barely reacted. I suppose he wasn't worried that I'd pack up and move out. That band and stone resided in a dresser drawer for the better part of two years before I finally took them to a jeweller's for repairs. During that time, my left ring finger felt lighter, almost naked. I know it can't possibly weigh much, but I guess I missed its constant presence. Soon, we will celebrate our 42nd anniversary. Don't tell Paul, but I would've said yes without that engagement ring to seal the deal. |
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