Reflections on my ring
My husband gave me this ring on our wedding day, and it has been a part of me for forty years. Each time it sat on my finger, it triggered a memory. Why wouldn’t it be mine? The concept gnawed at me. The jeweler’s hesitant and enigmatic remarks sowed seeds of mistrust, which began to grow. Questions raced through my mind, demanding answers I didn’t have.
Reflections On My Ring
Unable to shake it
At home, the jeweler’s comments hung on me like a shadow. I could not shake them no matter how hard I tried. I stared at the ring, turning it over and over to examine every minute feature. It suddenly felt unfamiliar, like if I was witnessing it for the first time. What had been so soothing for four decades suddenly felt like a mystery wound around my finger.
Unable To Shake It
