Treasures past on and lost

I lost my grandma's ruby ring. She passed it on to my mom, who passed it on to me and I lost it. (the pic to the left is mom giving Alex daffodils,about 20 years ago)

I am trying to grasp this reality, but I keep obsessing about it. I keep looking everywhere possible. The mysterious dissappearance haunts me, even in my dreams. I had it on, absolutely no doubt, on my way to mass. Later, about an hour after we were back home I realized it wasn't on. I immediately went to where I usually take off my rings. Nothing.

I drove all the way back to church and searched. Nothing.

I prayed to St. Anthony, too. I won't say "nothing", as maybe my prayer will be answered yet as a YES. I hope so.

I remember looking at the ring on the way to mass and thinking how my hands looked like my mom's and grandma's and how the ring serves as a link to that memory.

My horse Nancy has listened to me cry and whine more than I care to admit. I went out to the barn, told Nancy I lost mom's ring and all this pent up emotional pain just came out in sobs.

I know my horse pretty well. Here's what she thought, "does this mean I'm not going to get a snack?"

She probably did wonder that, but in some magical way, she is able to share her strength with me. Maybe because I'm able to share my weakness with her. Loss. What is the purpose of loss? To teach us how much we loved what we lost? Swell.

I'm not a materialistic person. I'm just extremely sentimental!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My mom has given me lots of pretty jewelry. This is a pic of the jewelry box she had as long as I can remember, and a ceramic doll she made. When I was a kid, she did ceramics. Our house had lots of elegant, dainty dolls for me to stare at. You couldn't touch them of course, but to me, they were so beautiful and I wanted to look just like they did when I grew up.

Good thing I didn't get everything I wanted.

And in conclusion, this is what Elle thinks, "just wait till your siblings read this blog and find out you lost that ring."

Oh, yeah.