ring

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The promise ring

Published November 17, 2013 by The Hip Grandmother

My family has many wonderful memories. As with so many families in the 80s, we were brought up by a single mother. Her life was devoted only to us and that is the best present anyone can give. My mother is a very special person who has taught me to become an up-standing human being and a devoted mother. She is the reason I am the mother that I am today. Today we were invited to have dinner at her house to decorate the Christmas tree. If there is anyone that loves Christmas, it is her. She loves the music, the giving and the feeling the season has when the spirit for your fellow man is strong. I will always remember the relationship between my beautiful mother and her favorite time of year.

After dinner, my daughter was rummaging through her jewelry box. My mother had spoken of many stories of each piece of jewelry. We sat and listened to her wisdom as she had a gleam in her eye, telling us who she bought them from, what event it was originally for, and what the story was behind that particular piece. She kept us enthralled for an hour listening to her memories.

One particular item was a ring. My daughter tried to put it on her finger but it was too small. My mother told us about the wonderful memory behind the ring. It was given to her on Christmas morning by my little sister from “Santa’s Workshop” in elementary school. My mother was so happy to open up the christmas gift from my five year old sister. As my sister watched her open it proudly, she tells her, “When I get married, I really want you to wear this.” My mother, surrounded by mountains of ripped-up Christmas wrappings took my little sister in her arms and held her tight. Secretly, my mother vowed not only to keep it safely in her jewelry box, but to keep it close to her heart.

Busy, busy, busy….no one could predict my little sister welcoming such a big family into her house and heart. Last June was the deadline to an amazing day, her wedding to the man of her dreams. Tall, dark and handsome was the man she would marry. But their day was so beautiful. As I walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid (never a bride), I notice the beautiful decorations of the trestle with delicate flowers intertwined from the ceiling to the floor. I had to stay in step with the music while I walked down the aisle  as I was enchanted with the decorations and the surreal feeling that my little sister has finally found the happiness she so richly deserved.

The music changed tones to the classic song “Pachebel Canon” and the beautiful bride waiting with my mom, arm in arm, to walk down the aisle to her future husband. My mother shows her the ring that she bought her when she was a kindergartener. Tears streamed down my sisters face at that moment. They continued walking down the aisle for my mother to rightfully give away her daughter to a man who the whole family, like my sister, had fallen in love with.

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