Rose Ring 1973-2013

A while ago, I did some posts telling the story of some of my cherished possessions.  They included Mom's baby shoes, a charm bracelet from Nanny Ryan and Weenie's lighter.  It is important to document the stories behind these things so that, someday long into the future, our children can make informed decisions about what to do with them.  This is such a story.

My rose colored ring was part of my first major purchase once I had a "real" job at Brooks' in Walton.  I bought another ring at the same time from the jewelry store in town--Paveglio's maybe.  They were on sale.   The other ring had a small purple stone in it that fell out several years later but I had an engagement ring to wear on that finger soon after so I didn't miss that one very much.  But I've worn the rose ring every day since about 1973.

Until about a year ago.  I was gardening and went to dump the cart when my ring got caught in a nasty yank.  My finger was sore for several days and the ring was badly misshapen. 

The picture doesn't really do the damage justice.  Anyhow, I thought I could live without the ring.  I wore the "root beer" ring in my little finger instead but I came to the conclusion that I really missed wearing that ring so I took it in for repair.  Initially, they told me it would be about $40 to reshape the ring.  I figured $1/year maintenance wasn't a bad price to pay for something I was really missing. 

But, of course, it can't be that easy.  The phone call comes from the jeweler that the ring needs more significant repair at a price that was probably about 3 times its original cost.  Understand that this wasn't real high quality gold or anything, it just meant a lot to me because it was the first thing I bought with my own money (and it was pretty too), so the original cost wasn't more than I could pay on a part time minimum wage salary from Brooks.  Reluctantly I told them not to continue with the repair. 

Then--epiphany.  This ring is a symbol of my work life.  It was shiny and pretty back when I first started in the work world.  With retirement looming, the ring gets stretched and pulled so far out of shape that it can no longer be worn.  Perfect analogy for the ending of my professional career.  I left teaching feeling kind of wrecked and bent out of shape.  So I'm pleased to keep the ring to symbolize my working years.  And when I'm gone, it can be too.