My heart seemed to stop and I got a pit in my stomach. I checked my finger again. Yep, there was the rough, poking prongs of my ring holding absolutely nothing. My diamond was gone. In that moment, diamonds were not this girl’s best friend – they were a source of major anxiety and despair. Somehow, the stone had fallen out of my ring.
I was at a party at a friend’s house years ago and was sure it was gone for good. After all, my husband has lost not one, but two wedding bands in the lakes of Michigan never to be seen again. Sure, I could get it replaced, but it wouldn’t be “that” diamond, the one I’d had since getting engaged many years ago.
Once she realized what happened, the hostess made everyone stop and drop to the floor to look for it. As I said, I was certain it was gone. While I was combing the floor of her dining room, the thought popped into my head. Maybe? Could it be? I was almost afraid to check for fear of disappointment.