The Saga Of A Little Ring
As I was relaxing yesterday afternoon Ter came in to show me something. It was the little diamond ring which once belonged to my dear, late Mother In Love. I prefer to use this term as it more accurately describes her for the all to brief time I knew her. She left us in February of 1992 after a battle with cancer. The ring was the only thing I inherited from her as a daughter in law. It has been on my finger for all the years since. Except the times it has been lost due to my procrastination in getting it resized after I lost quite a bit of weight. It was gone for a couple of months after I did the wash one Monday. We both searched and searched and my frustration and anger with myself grew. Then one day I looked in the gasket to the door of the washing machine and there it was shining brightly as always. How it got there I never really cared because it was back!! I rejoiced like the lady finding the gold coin in Luke Chapter 15. It went back on my finger
It was lost a couple of more times to my consternation. It was a miracle of sorts it was found before Ter left for Texas when he was cleaning the vent pipe to the clothes dryer. It was caught in the stuff in the pipe, not the filter so it went back on my finger. Miracle number two or three.
It was back on my finger when I arrived at work one day to do my shift of demonstrating an item for the client. It happened to be the start of a bad day so I wasn't really paying attention as I should have. During the day, I took off my gloves for some reason and the realization it me.... IT'S GONE AGAIN!!! The self depreciating thoughts in my head grew and grew as I surmised it must have come off when I removed my gloves and was in the trash. For some unknown reason, I couldn't bring myself to ask if it was turned into lost and found. Months passed by and I never told Ter not wanting to admit my carelessness in failing to take it to a jeweler. He was sweeping out the car preparing for our upcoming trip to Michigan and there it was, in a crevice just waiting to be found. Ter rightfully told me to kind of get off my duff and get it resized. After putting out an appeal on a local page, we had several choices of places to go. We chose a small, local place in the next town over and headed to see what he could do. I worried a little as my hands swell in hot, humid weather to complicate the size to choose. Thinking back now, maybe it isn't a bad thing so there is room when my hands do decide to make themselves bigger. We walked into the shop and were greeted by a very nice lady who guided us to where the jeweler works his magic. It wasn't long before I was showing him the ring and he helped decide what size it should become. On the way out I stopped to admire the Harry Potter figurines for sale.
God must really want me to have that ring to remind me of Mom's kindnesses and lessons taught
to me before she left us.You can be sure that ring won't be left so poorly sized to my finger again. The cost of the resized is nothing compared to the memories that little ring holds.
