Day 08: A Precious Item

Let me start by saying that I am quite a sentimental person. Nostalgia runs deeply through my veins. I love things with a history. More often than I would like, my mother asks me what "things" I would like of theirs when they pass on. To me, this is just vulgar. I don't care so much about "things". I want the history.....the old baby shoes.....the pictures.....the dolls my mother played with and treasured as a child......the things that honestly have no real monetary value.

Now, let me also say, that my sister is by far the favored child. I am the black sheep....the one who isn't "quite like the others". I know this.....my family knows this. I love them dearly and I know that they love me, but I also know that I am not the person they dreamed I would become. So, suffice it to say, I was more than a little stunned and extremely moved by the beautiful gift my mother gave me last Christmas.

I am a Libra. My mother is a Libra. My great grandmother Lucinda was a Libra. The Opal is our birthstone. I have always loved opals and I have been aware, since I was a child, that my mother had a very unique opal ring. This ring originally belonged to my great grandmother who I believe received it on her 18th birthday. Now, if I remember correctly, my great grandmother was one of 10 children, as was my great grandfather. They, however, only had one child.....my grandfather, George. He married Fay....my grandmother and since she was the only "daughter" she was given this ring when they were married (I think). My mother always loved this ring and being the only daughter who was a Libra, she was given the ring when she turned 18.......are you following me? Growing up, I was certain that when I turned 18, I might receive the ring. I was wrong. I was also disappointed. My hopes that someday I, too, would one day wear this ring faded as the years passed.

About a year and a half ago, my mother had the ring on and I mentioned how beautiful it was and how I had always loved it. She seemed surprised and mentioned that it was in need of repair. Little attention was given to the subject and the conversation quickly moved on to other topics. Fast forward 6 months to Christmas of 2009. There was a small present under the tree with my name on it. When it was handed to me, I was a little surprised because it was a gift only from my mother. Now, I don't think I have EVER been given a gift by only one of my parents before. I had no idea what to think. When I opened it and found the ring I had always loved, I was moved to tears. I don't think I even knew how much this gesture of love could mean to me until that moment. She had had it repaired and had given it to ME......not my sister.....not my niece.....to Me. Her black sheep daughter. Her birthday child......

It is beautiful.
It is history passed down for generations.
It is mine......and it is precious.