Also, the diamond in my wedding ring has grown over the years. My first ring was tiny (very representative of our socioeconomic status at the time). We were 23-I think it was maybe 1/3 of a karat. Two upgrades later, I have a 2 karat ring. I think about the years between those two rings, and though it has been worth it-I find myself missing those simple days. We have both endured so much pain, made stupid mistakes, our marriage has been through some very rough patches. I would gladly give back the ring if I could have spared both us of some difficult times. I have heard comments like, "someone really loves you" regarding my ring. I have never thought the size of the rock has a thing to do with how much we love each other. I never look at that beautiful (and it is quite stunning) ring and think to myself-man, my husband really loves me. I generally reflect on days gone by, when we had far fewer things, and how I miss that sometimes.
I remember how we used to spend hours walking our dog together. He was our free time because we just didn't have money to do much else. I never thought that was a bad thing. But I notice we hardly ever walk our dog together today. Those were pre-blackberry, cell phone, laptop, 24 hour Spongebob, Facebook, senior level job days. Days when our time together was so segregated from the rest of our busy lives. We would talk, laugh, and dream together; and we didn't share those moments with anyone. And naturally, we aspired to have bigger and more of everything. Ironically, we both reflect on those days of having so little, and without question admit that we had it better so many smaller ways.
There is a saying, "it's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog". Obviously, my first born son embodies this adage. He has such a huge heart-one you could never know by looking at his slight appearance. He has been playing sports since he was 4-and he is ALWAYS the smallest kid. He is also almost always one of the most skilled. His remarkable, God given talent and skill level are not as impressive to me though, as his courage. It has to be hard to be out there all the time-hearing all the comments about how tiny you are. The parents often question how old he is-within his earshot. I cannot imagine what the other kids say to him. Yet, he shows up, he plays with all his little heart, he never quits. I can't say with certainty that I would do the same thing. He never stops making me proud-and I don't care if he ever scores a basket or a goal or hits a homerun. He is such a champion to me.