I have an uncanny ability to remember phone numbers, addresses and dates.  The birthday of a friend named Pam from my 4th grade class?  Got it.  My first phone number – the one my mother taught me when I was younger than my children? I can recite it.  The full addresses of every house I’ve ever lived in? Just ask.

So I couldn’t help but notice that Really Big Guy and I are coming up on our “day we got engaged” anniversary.  Trust me, there will be no celebration.  No acknowledgement. This is simply one of those random dates that I carry around with me.

As this date approaches, I can’t help but laugh when I think of that fateful night 13 years ago. I was so misguided.  Not for saying yes, but for not fully understanding what a marriage would be.

In my defense, I couldn’t have possibly seen anything but sunshine and roses in our future.  Most newly engaged women have this sort of tunnel vision.  We heed advice; we listen respectfully; but then we move on to the important stuff – the wedding.  And of course, the ring.

Ah, the ring.  The moment so many girls fantasize about.  The down-on-one- knee proposal, with the hopefully tasteful, beautiful, decently sized rock being pulled out from behind, radiating moonlight in its flawless face.  As if once that ring was finally slid on that left finger, all of our dreams would come true. 

If only it were that easy. 

Unfortunately, we come to learn the truth. And this year, looking at my calendar and gazing down at my cherished engagement ring, I was struck with a somewhat cynical, slightly accurate, yet humorous thought.

You see, that ring I was given on April 20 - the one that brilliantly shines; the one that stands for so many promises - has landed in a safe spot that is not located on my finger.  A broken prong has rendered it temporarily out of service.

And the funny thing about this? For all its beauty and perfection that I have enjoyed, my ring is now a more appropriate symbol of enduring love and promises.  It finally captures a bit of truth that comes with a marriage. Sometimes, relationships can be fragile.  Sometimes, they break.

Don’t misunderstand.  All’s well on the home front. Really Big Guy and I are happy.  We’re committed. It’s just that there are moments when the mere act of him breathing sends me into a tailspin. And, although I choose to believe it’s preposterous, maybe sometimes he feels the same way about me.

Some days, the wear and tear of ordinary life wins and we get the worst of each other. It’s inevitable with all this togetherness.  With all of the intimate knowledge we share. Add to this the challenges that come with having a family - kid issues,  money issues,  health issues – need I go on?

I realize that no matter the size, cut or color of the ring I was given that April night when I said “yes”, neither of us was prepared for what came after we both said, “I do”.  That, months later, as we stood before our friends and family and took a vow to work through life together, we could not have known that when we left that big, fabulous party, reality would set in and we would be continuously challenged.

Fortunately, just like a marriage, a diamond ring has many prongs.  And although it may teeter when one prong is broken, it’s not completely ruined.  It’s just one prong that needs to be fixed.  And when you do, the whole is strong once again. 

Illyse appears Thursdays on TriangleMom2Mom.