The most precious jewels are not made of stone, but of flesh

I have come to know that after a proposal, the focus is on the ring.

This past weekend, I went home to my parents house for my Papa's 85th birthday party. Lots of these family members haven't seen me since Steve and I got engaged, so every other second I felt my hand being tugged in different directions. It's quite comical actually. Sometimes just a quick flash of the bling is sufficient. Others like to grab your hand and twist and turn until they've seen all they need. Even my Aunt Sis, who is blind, grabbed my hand and used her fingers to "see" my ring. Very cool, she could even tell how many side stones there are, to which she replied "He must really love you!!"

But something about showing off my most expensive piece of jewelry is extremely awkward and incomplete to me. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my ring. I especially like to type on the computer because the way that the light reflects off of my ring makes me giddy. But the ring is not just any 'ole piece of jewelry -- it means I'm getting married!! It means that Steve is going to be my husband, and I'm going to be Mrs. Wilster. It means that I won't have to call him my "boyfriend" anymore, because that never sounded enough anyway. It means that he will eventually be the father of my children, and my life companion. I could go on for hours about what my ring means to me, but I'll spare you...

I recently had an experience that I will forever remember. I saw a family friend, Jodi, for the first time post-engagement. "Honey, let me see!!" -- but first, she closes both of her hands around mine. "What is more beautiful than any ring could ever be is the fact that you're marrying your best friend." Tears welled in my eyes.

I am marrying my best friend.