By Heather O.
(Warning: WAY random post ahead, with, um, not much of a point. So, if you like posts that actually have like a whole message thing goin’ on, you might want to skip it. But if you like to read about shiny things, please. Proceed.)
I’m not much of a jewelry gal.
This ring is particularly pretty. It consists of two oval stones next to one another, one slightly above the other. Simple, elegant. I got it as a gift from my parents when I was 12. I put it on, and 22 years later, I have almost never taken it off.
(That’s not it on the left, by the way. That’s some other sapphire, a really famous one, called something like the Logan sapphire. I’ll explain in a minute why I can’t post a picture of my ring. But the Logan sapphire is shiny too, and since we’re talking about shiny things, I thought I’d post it anyway. You know, to add to the whole shiny thing theme.)
I’m not good at jewelry, really. I don’t know how to take care of it, I constantly lose earrings, and wearing too many rings reminds me of when I was 11 and thought it was cool to have a ring on every finger, including a plastic diamond ring that I fished out of a cereal box and a mood ring from the planetarium on each hand.
(Hey, it was the 80s. Don’t judge me. Your bangs were probably WAY more embarrassing than my mood rings.)
Over the years, my random rings all went the way of most of my earrings, and for a long time, I wore just one ring. My sapphire ring.
This ring has seen some hard times. Once, during a student production in junior high, I had to pretend I was breaking up with my boyfriend who gave me the ring, and I flung it across the stage. It bounced with a metallic ping, and rolled out of sight. I thought for sure I would never find it, but I did. It was bent up a bit, but in one piece.
Once, I was fiddling with it while driving with my mom, and it slipped off my fingers into that tiny space between the seat and the console. It was dark, and although I fished and fished for it, I couldn’t find it. I figured it was probably gone for good, and gave it up for lost.
Weeks later, I found it. Sitting quietly on the carpeted car floor, waiting for me.
In college, I was walking close to a chain link fence on a crowded street. The chain link fence surrounded a construction area, and had been put up in a hurry. I was late for work, and I was practically running, pushing against the fence so I wouldn’t knock anybody over in my haste. My hand got caught on a broken piece of the chain link that was jutting out. My ring was caught too, and my fingers were deepy scratched. I looked at my ring, and was mortified to see that the gold band was completely broken, and one of the stones was gone. Frantic, I looked around for the tiny stone, thinking again, in the midst of the dust and debris from the construction, that surely all was lost. I mean, how can you find a tiny,dark, almost black sapphire stone among pebbles in the street? I gave up, running even later for work, no time to look for something I knew I’d never find anyway.
On my way home, I glanced around at the same spot where I’d lost the stone, wistfully thinking of my beautiful ring. And there it was, the tiny sapphire, glinting up at me. I gingerly picked it up, put it in my jeans pocket, and took the mess home to my mom during Christmas break. She contacted the original jeweler, and when I got on the plane to head back to academia, my perfect ring sat happily on my finger, whole again.
Fast forward a bit. A month or so ago, I was on the phone with the bank, and my toddler daughter was pawing at me. I picked her up in my lap, trying to keep her quiet while I talked. She started yanking on my wedding ring, wanting to play with it. Not being quite THAT stupid, I slipped my sapphire ring off my finger and gave it to her. I shooed her away, thinking I’d get it from her after the phone call was over. I followed her, still on the phone, into the playroom, trying to keep an eye on where she went and what she did with my ring, but I did turn my back on her for a moment to write some stuff down.
When I turned back, her hands were suspiciously by her mouth.
My ring was suspiciously gone.
This is one of those times when you wonder how you could be so dumb, and how much you are willing to pay for your mistake. And after trying for 2 days to squish my way through Little Sister’s poopy diapers in hopes of finding a glint of blue or gold, I decided I wasn’t willing to pay all that much.
And so I resigned myself to a naked ring finger, and went on with life. After all, I lose stuff all the time, it was only a series of flukes that I haven’t lost this ring yet. It was bound to happen sometime.
Yesterday, J and his playdate played Hercules and moved the toy box in the playroom. There, on the carpet, was my ring, having fallen from the place it had been wedged, between the box and the wall. And so it comes back home again, and, thankfully, without having gone through Little Sister’s colon first.
I don’t know what to makes of this, my mysterious piece of jewelry that is lost and then found, again and again. Really, I’m not kidding when I say I lose stuff all the time. And it’s not just jewelry. Keys, my purse, power cords, my library card–I lose it all. So it gives me an odd sense of comfort to think that there is one thing in this world that somehow will always find it’s way back to me.
Anybody else have any weird experiences like this? Something that you feel always comes back to you, again and again?
And I’m sure it’d be nice for y’all to see a picture of my kickin’ ring and everything, but I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. You see, I lost my camera last week.
2nd one this year.
Maybe I should buy a camera with a sapphire in it.
WordPress database error: [Can't open file: 'wp_comments.MYI' (errno: 144)]
SELECT * FROM wp_comments WHERE comment_post_ID = '1724' AND comment_approved = '1' ORDER BY comment_date