Reflections
Looking back on Friday, Bryan and I recognize that the day's circumstances truly could have ended up disastrous. But, for some reason, they didn't. Whether it was the "comforting" message from the disappearing woman on the Plaza, the lightening-fast reflexes of our Radiation Oncology team, or whether it was plain, dumb luck (for the record, we don't believe for one second it was dumb luck), it all worked out. We've been pondering the meaning of that day the entire weekend, and honestly, may ponder the meaning of that day forever.
In our eyes, there was something so incredibly meaningful about the way that our diamond left us and then came back. Other people may think we're nuts, but they have to understand that, compared to the general public, Bryan and I have a much, much different perspective on life and the mysteries of the universe right now. When the diamond was gone, we were beyond deflated. I told Bryan yesterday that despite my initial anger and panic, I didn't have any more energy in me to get upset about losing the diamond. He agreed. Our emotional keg was tapped and I honestly felt numb. When life shits on you so badly it's incomprehensible (like it has been doing to us lately), you just get to the point where you can't react anymore.
But then we got the diamond back. I literally can't describe the feeling. Imagine a bungee jumper. Falling, falling, falling, and then – SNAP! – the line catches and you get yanked back. Back into life. Into emotion. Into the idea of HOPE and believing that someone or something is looking out for you. Bryan said that it was as though we needed to feel the "low beyond low" so we could truly appreciate the JUBILATION that we felt when we heard that Leyla had found our diamond. And when we got the diamond back, in Francine's rosary bag, no less, we felt like this was a new lease on life for us. We TRULY felt like it was a sign that everything was going to be okay. I can't explain it. We're still scared, stressed out and exhausted. That doesn't go away until you have an MRI that says, "the tumor has shrunk and/or is gone." But even without that, Bryan and I (and our families) truly believe we're going to pull through this.
That said, we went to our jeweler yesterday to get my ring fixed. We were seriously overdue for a visit as our wedding bands have been ready for pick-up for a month, but obviously we've been a little busy and distracted. Rita, one of the store's co-owners, almost fell over when I showed her my finger, sans ring. She and her husband, Harry, have been successfully making jewelry for my family for three generations, so she couldn't believe that the stone had fallen out (for the record, neither could Bryan nor I given how well I care for my ring). But she was beyond stunned when we told her the story. She kept telling us that the odds of finding our diamond were like one in a million. Trust us, we know.
When we left, Bryan told her to make the ring "indestructible." Oh, and we're also signing up for ring insurance ASAP, too. So that should help. We get the ring back later this week, along with our wedding bands. They're gorgeous and we love them. The best part is, when Bryan and I say "I do" six weeks from now and he's done with this round of treatment, our diamond will be there. We didn't think our wedding could get be any more special or celebratory (for us, at least), but now, the story behind the diamond just upped the ante.
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