My aunt died very unexpectedly about 8 years ago. It was incredibly traumatic for everyone and I flew home from Hawaii right away for her service and to be with my family.
While I was at home, my Mima (and my mother's mother), told me to go to her bedroom drawer and grab a velvet pouch. So I gave it to her and she dumped the pouch full of rings into her hand and started feeling them to figure out which was which. My Mima was blind, by the way. She tells me that since I'm the oldest granddaughter, I get first pick of which of these I want to keep.
So she picks up one ring, a yellow gold band, and tells me that this was her father's ring. It was made from Leadville, Colorado gold, the town where he and her mother had settled after marrying, and that it was special because he had served as the sheriff of Leadville, Colorado.
Then she picked up another ring. I wish I could remember the story for that one.
Then she picked up another one. It looked like an engagement ring, to be honest. She told me that this was her mother's ring, but that she never wore it. It was from a man, known to my Mima as Uncle Something-or-Other. Her mother, "Granny Cane" is what we called her by the way, had carried it around in her purse for as long as my Mima could remember, and that the Uncle So-and-So had been around for all the family celebrations and holidays, but she knew that this man wasn't really an uncle.
I took that ring because I thought "There's a story here."
And I found out recently that there might be!
More on this soon.
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