A Nomadic Love Story….Part Fourteen, Not Just a Ring

I couldn’t stop professing my love…after all I’d wanted three long months to say it.

I had to finish getting ready so we could go to town. It took a while though because as I dried my hair I kept looking at the ring, as I brushed my hair I would change the ring sparkling in the lights, as I put on my make-up I’d have to stop to look at it. I know, I know. I shouldn’t have been so caught up in the ring, but I just couldn’t believe how pretty it and how it sparkled when it caught the light and more importantly that it was actually on my finger.

That ring represented so many things. It signified that I was going to be married, that I’d found the man I wanted to give my heart to and whom I could trust to hold my heart tenderly in his hands. It also meant that a man had prayed for me, found me desirable, pursued me, loved me and found in me the qualities he felt would make him a good wife and mother to his children. It was and still is one of the greatest compliments I’ve ever received.

I finally finished dressing and we went into town. We were trying to track down my mother who was at the church doing something. She, of course, was happy but not surprised. Had other women not been around I think we would have done a happy dance, but we both tried to control ourselves and harness our excitement. Next, because the rest of my family could not be found, we headed over to meet Kathy Rone at Rib Ally, a restaurant in town owned by her sister. I think she may have done a little happy dance.

The rest of the day was spent on a cloud. Everything was brighter, bolder, funnier, and more beautiful. Paul and I helped Momma prepare for my niece, Elena’s, birthday party. There were several people coming for the cookout and we had lots to do. Little did I know that the birthday party was also an engagement party. I repeat once more, I am naive.

My grandmother Montague was probably the most surprised. I’ll never forget the look on her face. She’d had about as much a clue it was going to happen as I did, despite the fact that she’d written one of the letters to me.

So, it was official. I would marry Paul H. Davidson, III. The sooner the better.

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