When I was about nine years old my grandmother on my mother’s side gave me a ring with a little diamond in it. Everyone told me to be careful with it because it was real diamond in there and it was valuable, but I only was nine and lighter than many other girls I knew, I was not that exited about jewelry. One day I washed my hands in a hospital and left the diamond ring in the sink.
I still cherish the beautiful design of that ring and still curse that day.
Years later I was fifteen years old and my grandma and my mother gave me a set of jewelry that had been design for my mother when she was fifteen; it was a pendant with the number 15 in rubies and a princess cut ring with a garnet in the middle and two rubies at the sides, I’m not being subjective when I say it was the most beautiful ring that ever dressed my finger. I loved how that ring looked like it was made in my hand. I wore the set everywhere the whole year I was fifteen and years later when I was a teenager I used it again, for it was just so pretty. When I got to college I continued to wear the ring often, I did loved it.
Just recently, early this year, I was looking for it, some years ago my grandma gave me earrings that go perfectly with it, and I couldn’t find it. I knew I wore it to work a couple of times, I never wear jewelry to work, but on a couple of special occasions I did and I looked everywhere, I cried my eyes out that day. I can’t even be specifically angry because I honestly don’t know what happened, this time I had no washing of the hands to blame, I can only imagine what came of it and the last and most satisfying theory for my brain is that one day I wore it to work, it was uncomfortable to wear it with the gloves so I took it off and put it in my jean pockets and then I gave those jeans away in one of the many times of the year that I send clothes to a girl of a family my uncle helps.
But my grandma, she will never give up on me. I know because of the way she looks at me, so proud that I finished college, that I haven’t run away with a drunk bastard, or gotten myself pregnant of someone I couldn’t point out. I can’t feel particularly responsible to inspire such admiration since it’s only been luck that the rest of the cousins are completely crazy, but it does makes me goo because she is one very admirable woman and I know her judgment is a straight one.
So this year my grandmother gave me this for Christmas, leaving all the other Christmas gifts, even the ones I got for myself to look just a tiny bit… duller:
This ring was property of my grandmother’s grandmother. Meaning it is, as we calculated, around one hundred and fifty years old. That’s 150. Three ciphers there. I had seen this ring in my grandma’s finger, it was one piece that got me to stare for hours whenever she wore it. I think it’s clear that I almost died a quick death when she gave it to me. I walked backwards with my hands in my chest trying to retain posture. She said she was giving it to me now so she could rest assure that the ring was in my hands, for if she ever knew otherwise and I’m quoting here “I would GET OUT OF MY TOMB and search for the culprit”. Which I’m so sure she would do, knowing her. She sort of remade the ring some years ago, it has twenty two little stones around and the center stone is an aquamarine. I was born in March, she’s always given us jewelry with our birthday stones (my mother was born in January, thus the garnet in her fifteen year old ring) so it made me wonder if she was planning this all this time, it wouldn’t surprise me, she plans and organizes like that, but what an honor that she chose my stone instead of hers.
I wanted to mention here somewhere that I do have some advantage in the jewelry receiving department of my grandma’s because not only do I have only two more female cousins on her side, one of them is an Adventist of the Seventh Day member and they don’t wear jewelry, and the other is a crazy ungrateful idiot. Not that the first one is not crazy, is just not as crazy as the second one, so I’m like the only responsible one, and my grandma? LOVES jewelry, so there, it all comes to me.
That thing looks so beautiful, it’s even a little scary to put it on.
The night I got it I dreamt that I looked for my fifteen’s ring again, thinking that maybe I would find this time, and I looked in the one place for it and it was there. I was very happy and hold it up saying “of course, it is now where it is suppose to be” and I put it back without putting it on or anything. Which I thought was weird, even as I was dreaming, because the one first thing I would do if I find that ring is to put it on. When I woke up I remembered how it could be now in the hands of some girl I’ve never seen, but who has been always very thankful of all the things I’ve sent her (clothes, shoes, accessories, etc) and I thought that maybe, she’s never had a real piece of jewelry, if she has lacked so many other things, and then, if it happened that she found the ring, then I can’t be half angry at that. I can be even a little glad, cause maybe now, it really is where it belongs, just like grandma said this Christmas.