lost ring

Most of you know that on Friday last week (my birthday), in the midst of cleaning up the yard, stowing outdoor furniture, etc, I lost my pinkie ring that I got on my first trip to Europe (7 years ago). Obviously a lot of emotions and memories tied up in that inexpensive ring (I don’t think I even paid $10 for it, if that much), so I was very upset when I discovered it was missing. I don’t really have any hope of finding it, though I suppose if I lost it in the garage or yard (instead of at the recycling center, or in my recently emptied yard waste bin), it may still turn up – if something miraculous happens.

Since I despair of it ever turning up, and my pinkie feels distinctly naked, acting as a constant reminder that I have LOST something (which I so rarely do – ask anyone, I don’t even lose puzzle pieces, and I have only rarely lost an earring back or similar small jewelry-type thing. I tell my kids all the time “I never lose anything”) I went online yesterday to see if I could find a similar one. It only took a couple of tries, and I found the exact ring design, from a company in Salt Lake, Salt Lake Silver.
The really awesome thing about this is that it’s called an eternity knot. I don’t think I knew that. I bought my ring from a street vendor, not a gift shop, or I might have had something of the design explained. My original ring was very thin silver, and this one looks distinctly sturdier. I ordered a smaller size, so this time it won’t slip off too easily.

I think that maybe there is a lesson in there for me. Some things are more important. Losing my eternity knot ring, so that I find out that’s what it was – a reminder of eternal things. Like friendship, family, the gospel; maybe not a small, thin, silver ring, purchased during a very emotional time (this was the spring before husband #2 left – part of me knew what was happening even then, I think), on a trip away from almost all my family (baby sister was with me, later joined by mom & one of my aunts). Yes, plenty of good memories associated with the ring, as well as sad, but it is just a ring, a piece of metal. I can replace it. I can’t replace any of you.

Thanks for being there for me, always.

Love you

PS: if I had the funds, I’d buy one for each of you, too, as a reminder of what really matters. But there are so very many of you, and so few extra dollars. As it should be, I suppose.