THE RINGS I WAS NOT MEANT TO HOLD ONTO

My crown is in my heart, not in my head,
Nor decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
Nor to be seen; my crown is called contentment;
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.
William Shakespeare

Big diamonds, so big I expect people may have suspected they were fake. One ring was a solitaire from my granny, the other a rock flanked by two smaller stones; the rock was my mom’s and I’d had it put in the new setting when I got married.

When my Bunn was about five years old, she would sit at my dressing table and fiddle with my things while I got ready to go out. Of course the day arrived when I couldn’t find my ring. We turned the house upside down searching for it, the contents of the vacuum cleaner were sifted through, and the dustbin was examined. The ring was gone.

Almost a year later, the child woke up one morning and called to me that she had dreamed where the ring was. She went to her toy cupboard and pulled out a spindly-legged doll named Pindella, who wore a tiny backpack. Sure enough, there was my ring wrapped in a grubby piece of tissue.

There is an urban legend in Johannesburg that criminals will cut your hands off to get your jewellery, so I seldom wore either of my two diamond rings. My personal style leans more to chunky costume jewels anyway, and I have bowls, boxes and tins of the stuff all over my house.

And so it happened that these two rings lay amongst tin and plastic, silver and pewter; for many years.

Until last December.

Our Alice had gone on her year-end visit to her homeland, Lesotho, and a friend of mine suggested we use the services of their char, Josephine, who would appreciate the extra income. The situation worked well for both Josephine and I over the two-week period.

In January I met up with my friend and asked after Josephine. I was told that Josephine had disappeared, along with my friend’s wedding ring, a couple of necklaces and a valuable collection of war medals that had belonged to her grandfather.

I went home with a feeling of dread and looked in my tin. Both my diamond rings were gone, nothing else had been taken.

They were not insured; the yearly valuation fee and high premiums had made me procrastinate, I have only myself to blame for that.

I stewed for a while. And then I let it go, I simply released my anger one morning.

Karma will do her thing … I doubt the twinkling of those stones made Josephine a happy woman.

I’m happy with my junk …

This post was inspired by:

http://reflectionsfromacloudymirror.blogspot.com/2010/07/book-and-ring-part-2.html

You may also want to read:

http://pseu1.wordpress.com/2010/12/12/lost/

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31 thoughts on “THE RINGS I WAS NOT MEANT TO HOLD ONTO

  1. I will tell you an almost similar story…I always treasured my ring that Hugo gave me when we got married…then…after he passed away…one morning I did the normal thing (never sleep with my rings) and it was gone!!! I cried my heart out, went to the police…went back on tracks that I thought I could have lost it…nothing!!! (It was not insured at the time!!) Needless to say, I never found my ring. Then, after a year…I decided to move house and to make a long story short, I found my ring between my handbags while unpacking the cupboard!! I nearly fell off the bloody chair I was standing on, screamed at the top of my voice…and guess what…it is insured now!!..I feel your pain my darling…so very much. Love yah and have a good day oxoxox

  2. Oh no, that is a terrible story, But well done to you on letting go. I had 2 sentimental pieces taken from me, both given to me by my mother. Like you, I didn’t wear them much, but I really wanted to keep them.
    I still wish I had them, they filled a special place in my heart. I now only have the memories and those are what are most special.
    PS : If you see a woman wearing a name chain that says “Rosemary” and her name is “Josephine”, you’ll know where it came from!

  3. Love the quote that you chose to start this piece . . .

    And love the ring’s story ~ from finger to grubby tissue in the doll’s backpack to departing the premises for good with Josephine to . . . new and exciting adventures.

    You are WISE to let go so graciously ~ when we invest energy in mourning the loss of possessions, we lose touch with life’s most valuable jewel (contentment) which is only a heart beat away.

    Well done!

  4. Jewelry can weave its own tales, I suspect! Thanks for the mention! I am fortunate enough not to have a lot of “big rocks.” I love the way they look, but as my story goes, I am not a very good steward of my jewelry. It becomes, after a while, a part of my hand, wrist, ears, or neck, and while I do occasionally see and admire them on myself, they are mostly just parts of myself that I take for granted and forget that I am wearing. Can’t begin to tell you how often I scrub with caustic materials, paint, garden, and do all sorts of things without ever a thought to take the jewelry off for safe-keeping.

    That however, is not the point of your (or my) story. The main point, I believe, is to treasure what you have while you have it, and freely let go what is lost or gone. Not an easy task in a society that values “things” above the true treasures of friendship, love, home, and family. My ring, whether on my hand, or not, will always evoke the warm remembrance of my wonderful father, and while I love looking at it, I certainly don’t need it to remind me of him…he is always with me.

  5. Not Yet Errant Son flushed my diamond ring down the loo when he was very little (I wonder what else went down the loo) and painters stole my Mom’s diamond I had reset to replace the flushed ring.

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