If someone were to ask me what my two favorite adjectives are, and owning to the fact that I have many literary friends this is not so farfetched an occurrence, I would answer, after a bit of deliberation, “big and small.” I know that there are many, many wonderful and intelligent words to chose and these simple bits of speech don’t seem like much but while magnanimous and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious are impressive in their own right they are rather limited in their application. Big and small are surprisingly versatile words carrying with them so many connotations that you can practically insert them into any syntax and come away with a workable sentence.
Take people for example, like me you may be a big person, over six feet tall, broad shoulders, shoes that would fit many basketball players. My friend Sam is quite the opposite, adorably munchkin-esque she’s easy to loft in the course of a hug and in by best estimation needs a step stool to reach the high shelf in the kitchen. However, an equally valid statement would be that she is a big person; one who is kind to all others, morally strong, and capable of overcoming all types of obstacles while coming out stronger on the other end. Large men can also be quite small in how they treat others or by flipping out over minor problems, people of great importance are often prone to consider only themselves and be very short with those they perceive as below them. In the right context and inflection calling someone a ‘big man’ can be just as derogatory as ‘little lady’ which, said with a gleam in the eye of one’s husband is a term of kindliest endearment.
A friend of mine once asked me for a huge favor which turned out to be passing her a pack of cigarettes from across a table, yet one should always be wary when someone asks to borrow ‘a little money’. It’s all relative, really, even the biggest of big dogs is miniscule when compared to say, a small planet. And while we’re on the astronomical subject super massive black holes and world killer asteroids are nothing to make a big deal out of especially when compared to such little things as the AIDS virus or flesh eating bacteria, big problems if you come into contact with them. Oppenheimer split a dainty little atom and ended up leveling cities with nuclear fire from the skies, at the trinity test he took bets on whether or not the explosion would ignite the earth’s atmosphere thus destroying all of existence. I guess he just had a good sense of humor about things.
I guess the point I’m winding towards is that I made one of the biggest purchases of my life yesterday. It was a small thing in the grand scheme, just a little bit of platinum, a precious little stone, small enough to drop through a hole in your pocket or get washed down the drainpipe of a sink. It’s not as big as a car let alone a house, it’s not big like some people buy small islands to vacation on or multinational corporations that get bought out in billion dollar mergers. Hell, even as jewelry goes it’s no hope diamond. It’s a little, simple thing, that engagement ring. But at this juncture in my life, and foreseeable for the rest of my days buying that ring is the biggest, most important decision I’ve ever made.
It didn’t cost me a lot either, less than the three months salary some would call standard, and certainly nowhere near the seven figures that sheiks and NBA stars would consider mandatory. Even among the symbols of eternal love and devotion we’d looked at over the past year it’s not the most expensive, and in carat weight it’s really on the low end. It’s not flashy, it’s not studded with diamond chips to make a bigger impression and it’s nothing like the royal wedding ring that came into vogue recently. It is just the one she wanted, the one we both liked, the one we found together and all of those criteria carry a lot more weight with her than the relative bling of the thing.
Maybe that’s the proper allegory for our whole relationship because as much as the long flights over the vast Atlantic ocean and nights spent romancing in top floor hotel rooms are well and good as big shows of affection it’s so much more the little things we love to do for one another that make our love deep. I can’t count the cups of tea I’ve fetched her or the number of biscuits I’ve brought home from the store without her asking. She once told me the most romantic thing I’d ever done was writing little hearts and ‘luv u’s in ketchup next to my chips. As for me I melt when she rests her head on my chest and get all warm inside when we silently mouth ‘I love you’ to one another as though to say it aloud would shatter the spell those words put us under.
So over the next nine months or so we’re going to be hashing out all of the little details of our big day. We’ll have to decide on bow ties, cuff links, party favors, center pieces, church music, cake flavors, we need bible readings and locations for photo shoots, we need all of this and dozens of other considerations sorted and settled and booked and paid for. Mind bogglingly we find ourselves in this situation because of one kiss stolen in the middle of the night what seems like a long time ago. And all of this is only leading up to two little words, the biggest, most important words we’re ever going to say. Five years and thousands of dollars are leading up to that big moment where we look into each others eyes and say that simple, small sentence: “I do.”
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