My father gave me a ring when I was in the 5th grade. It wasn't a purity ring or anything symbolic like that, it simply was an item that he picked out at the local jewelry store and gave to me for Christmas.
I wore that ring for years.
I still have that ring. With all its nicks and scratches and gouges.
When I was a kid digging around in my mother's jewelry box I'd often come across this monstrosity of a ring.
I thought it was hideous. It's about the size of one digit on my finger. And get this: my mother made it in college. I had never known my mother to make anything but dinner and decoupage and bad ceramics. But she was in a pottery class, as I remember the story going, at Florida Southern and wasn't doing so well so she switched to jewelry making. The stone was one she filched from her father who had picked it up out west on a trip my grandparents had taken. The ring was even entered in the Florida State Fair. I don't know how it did since these parts of the story were related to me as my mother started losing her ability to communicate. But not-so-very-long-ago I was again perusing my mother's jewelry box. Probably in an effort to organize it since she has become almost crow-like in her ability to hide jewelry and then forget where she put it. I came across this ring again. And fell in love.
It's still huge. The stone has so many matrices and colors that you could get lost in it. And my mother made it.
It's now, honestly, my favorite ring.
This, on the other hand, is not:
But, boy, did I think I was fancy when I got this ring.
I was probably all of 17 when the Jostens class ring information came out. Remember?
Now, I have nothing against class rings as a whole. I'm sure many of you still wear yours. And they have come a long way since 1983, but my parents convinced me to forego the class ring and take the money instead and buy the gold, sapphire, and diamond ring you see above.
That's right. I said diamond.
I thought I was so fancy. So sophisticated.
I'm sure I was so obnoxious. Plus, those diamonds are about the size of the diamond the high school boy gives his high school girlfriend as an engagement ring.
I do think I wore it longer than I would have a class ring.
This is my wedding/engagement ring which I actually didn't get until months after the wedding. We had it custom made by an ethereal woman who had no concept of time. It's eminently wearable with nothing sticking up or out. I love that about it. It's also dirty.
This ring is Sam's. It was given to him by a man to whom he showed property, a man he later found out went to Asheville School for Boys with his Uncle Dave, a man who valued Sam's friendship and took him under his wing.
Myers Cooper has since passed away, but he and his wife were very, very special people who liked Sam for some reason. Myers' father was Myers Y. Cooper, a former governor of Ohio. He had a ring exactly like the one shown except he lost it in a manure pile one winter. So he did what any governor of Ohio would do and had another one made. In the spring, when the snow melted and the manure was spread, the ring resurfaced. He gave one of the rings to his son. Myers Cooper, the son, had three rings made to give to the three men to whom he felt the closest.
One of them was Sam. Inscribed inside the ring are the initials SD-MC and the date it was given, Christmas, 1999.
Such a sweet gesture from this outwardly gruff and no-nonsense man.
Fortunately for me, Sam doesn't wear pinkie rings. And it fits my middle finger beautifully.
There was a time in my history that I couldn't wear jewelry. It wasn't because of allergies or moral misgivings or anything remotely like that. I was going through a major depression and for some reason it felt anathema to me to wear anything decorative.
Yes, I used the word "anathema." Because I'm just like that. I did look it up to make sure I was using it correctly.
My vocabulary might be fancy, but I'm not. And even though I harbor secret fantasies of being given a ring like this:
I'm sure I wouldn't love it any more than the ring my father gave me when I was in 5th grade.
...alison...
