Friday, March 27, 2009


The day after my mother passed away my father wanted to bring all of her jewelry to the safe deposit box.

I was assigned the task of sifting through the tower of jewelry boxes to separate the costume from the sentimental from the genuine articles.

When I was done I was a sobbing mess curled in the middle of my parents king sized bed.

I lay clutching a red leather box in one hand....and in the other my mother's engagement ring.

From the time I was very small I was always fascinated by it. She didn't wear it often but when she did oh how I was drawn to it! "Sparkle plenty" she would say, waving her fingers so the diamond would catch the light. She wore it when they went out, or for a special occasion with a matched diamond wedding band. It was dazzling.

A far cry from the plain gold braided band that adorned her finger on most days.

When my sobs began to subside I held it up to the winter sun streaming through the window. It's prisms danced across the bed spread as I turned it this way and that. I examined it from all sides and tried to memorize it's every facet while picturing it on her hand.

It left an imprint in my palm from how tightly I squeezed it. Blood from a stone; tears from a diamond; I felt like I was letting the last little bit of her go when I returned it to it's box. I brought the humble pile of jewelry to my father and fell so deep into depression that there was no light. There were no prisms for longer then I can even remember.

Eventually, I healed. Slowly. I forgot the rings size, it's sparkle, it's details. I reached a point where if asked I could only assure its existence but nothing else.

That was until I found myself sitting on a piece of driftwood on the northern California coast. I felt Then Future Spouse shift beside me and I looked over to see him perched on one knee.

He held a red leather box in his outstretched hand; nestled in it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. My mothers ring. My ring.

He said wonderful things. I said yes and cried. It was more then I ever thought that moment could have been.

Unlike my mother I wear it everyday. Even filthy from soap scum and lotion it still flashes in the sun. Clean; it could blind you. It still dazzles me.

Riley loves to finger it, she says "prewwy" and tries to pull it from my hand. I tell her how much her grandmother would have loved her, that the "pretty" is a piece of her. I tell her to have patience. Someday...a day further away from today then either of us could ever imagine it will be hers.

Because that is how I want it passed on. From mother to daughter. Sparkle plenty.


ellipses said...

that was so beautiful. i have tears but no words...

Megan said...

That is really special that you wear your mom's ring. I have my grandmother's pearls and that are my most treasured piece of jewelry. They are also what I have worn on some of the most important days of my life so a part of her is always there.

Domestic Extraordinaire said...

what a treasured memory of your mother that you get to carry around with you everyday. Much love my friend, much love.

the new girl said...

That was beautifully written. I have a GIGANTIC blue topaz ring that was my great-gram's, my gram's, my mom's and now mine. My sister has my gram's ruby ring (my mom died first and thus, it skipped her.) We each now have a daughter to pass these things to and even though I don't wear it (besides when I wore it to her funeral,) I am as attached to it as if I wore it every day.

Swiggy said...

You made me cry...very hard to do.

3elephant said...

I like this diamond ring, simple and nice. Have it polished in goldsmith and you get a elegant sparkle on finger.