I celebrated Mother's Day with my Mom at her house over brunch. My Step-Dad did the cooking, I did the cleaning and Mum just relaxed. I had picked up a Zero Gravity Chair as her gift after years of listening to my Mum talk about getting one (seriously, if you don't have one, you need one), so we had a really nice time sitting in the backyard chatting on what turned out to be a gorgeous day.
Part way through the morning, my Mum hands me a tiny little ring and asks me if I would wear it with my wedding set. I tried it on and when the platinum band fit nicely under my rings, I agreed. Then she proceeded to tell me that it's my great-grandmother's wedding band and it's over 75 years old. So now of course, I had to take a better look at it. You can see that there used to be some kind of engraving on the band that's now worn off.... but it's still absolutely beautiful.
Mum had me promise to wear it. She said it was too big for her and she was afraid to have it sized give it's age and delicacy... but that she didn't want it to sit in a box anymore. It's too big for me as well, but tucked under my wedding set, it's in no danger.
I've spent a lot of time staring at the ring, trying to imagine the history of my family that it's seen. Did they buy it together as a young couple anticipating their wedding? Was it on Gram's finger when my grandmother was born or got married? Did it accompany her to the funeral of my great-grandfather? How long did she wear it after he passed? How many birthday parties, weddings, Christenings and funerals of my relatives did it attend? I know it sounds cheesy, but this ring represents the love that is responsible for my family. It's responsible for my grandmother, then my Mum, and subsequently... me. The idea of that fascinates me.
So now I'm wearing three rings on the ring finger and I'm excited to have a little piece of my family's history with me everyday.