Yesterday, I was looking through my jewelry and again came upon the ring. My mother left me a few pieces of jewelry, one of which was her wedding ring. I always loved that ring...seeing it on her hand...watching all she lovingly did for her family and friends throughout the years with it on are etched memories for me. I have tried to wear the ring a few times since she died, but I keep it on for less than a day and then it just makes me too sad to see it.
I got it out again, put it on and every time I see it unexpectedly on my hand gasp a little as it is also my mother's hand that I see...I'm getting arthritis in my joints and my right hand especially, looks like hers.
So my dilemma is...wear it till I get used to it, or put it away and preserve it as it appears in my mind...a sacred memento of her....what to do?
Humorously...the wrong. Today in church, we sat next to Chelsea, Brant and baby Bryden, when suddenly during a sacred moment at the beginning of service the fire alarm went off! Now I have never heard the fire alarm in church...didn't really know we had one. The minister, cool and calm decided to wait because to overcome that racket was too competitive. Baby Bryden looked startled but unfazed as he really just wanted to be allowed to wander under the seats. (digressing....my mother told me that as a toddler in church one Sunday that I crawled under the pews...she had my sister as an infant in arms...and switched every one's boots around to the shock of all following service). In the end...it was a youngster that had pulled a fire alarm and had the fire department and fire marshall coming to Sunday morning church!
Hmmmm.....The beginning to an interesting week.
7 hours ago