My Mom gave me a beautiful ring a few years ago, maybe for my birthday? Hard to say. Four or five dark aquamarine stones, cut into rhombuses, sit straight across in a row with tiny diamonds paired and vertically placed above and below where the vertexes of the rhombuses meet. She found it just lying on the floor in her guest room.
About ten years ago my parents bought a townhouse in Alexandria, Virginia. After living there for about three years she found this beautiful ring, sitting on the carpeted floor of the guest room. After countless calls, letters, and conversations with everyone who'd been or stayed as an over-night guest, it remained unclaimed. The ring reminded her of me, so she passed it on to my possession.
For the gift I'm very grateful. Even more compelling, is the mystery behind it. When, where, and most importantly, why was it purchased? Who owned it? And who might be missing it?
Could it be a left-over gift in an unrequited love story? An anniversary ring? A mother's ring for a woman who had four or five children all in the same month of different years? Perhaps it's an anniversary ring. It could have been a token of love in an illicit romance. What if it's an apology ring after admitting to an affair. Maybe it was borrowed for a special occasion and never returned. A family heirloom? A graduation gift? Jewelry can have deep sentimental meaning. Almost as wonderful as admiring the ring itself, is the wondering: What's the story behind this ring?
Every time I wear it I wonder: Who's was this? Then my imagination runs wild. So I'm twice-blessed with this gift from my mother. It's a delight to the eyes and the curious mind. Others have also wondered at its tale.
And to anyone who might be missing it: I will keep it in good care. If you claim it, it's yours. Just please, tell me its tale.
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