Happy Friday, Dear Readers.
I’ve lost a lot of things in my life. Wonderful friends have moved away and lost touch, and not-so-wonderful friends have drifted for other reasons. Beloved relatives and a close friend from childhood have passed away. I’ve lost my childhood home, and at times, even my self-confidence and sense of identity. All are great losses that have changed me in some way, and hopefully made me stronger and more compassionate of others.
But what about the incidental things we lose along the way? The objects that have special meaning but that we manage to do without once they’re gone? What have you lost that you wish you hadn’t? What missing item do you still think about now and then? Do you know what happened to it?
When I first moved to the “big city” to attend college, gold jewelry was very much in fashion. And I’m not talking clunky, cocktail-ring type gold…women wore plain or elaborate gold bands, chains, and charms with semi-precious gemstones and settings designed to look like the stone was worth more than it was. It was also fashionable to wear every single piece of jewelry you owned at once, and thanks to a variety of boyfriends, I had a variety of not-so-tasteful baubles.
But the ring I loved most was simple. It had a tiny band–I wore it on my pinkie finger. The only decoration was a single garnet, shaped like a heart, but what a garnet! It was such a striking shade of red–at first it appeared black, but if you tilted your hand so the stone caught the light, crimson fire burned deep within. It had a beautiful intensity about it, and I loved it.
It wasn’t an expensive ring, compared to some of the other ones I owned…I believe it was $90 out of the Sears catalogue or somewhere equally glamorous. And no lost love bought it for me–I’m pretty sure this one came from my mother. I don’t know why it appealed to me so much–it was a mass-produced ring. All I know is that it did.
One day I went to wear it and it was gone. I searched the entire apartment and never found it. I also never found out what happened to it, although a psychic once told me that “someone who I thought was a friend” had taken it. Whatever the case, once I graduated and started earning a decent living, I’d given up gold for silver and never thought to replace it. It would seem a little strange for me to wear it now, anyway. It looked like a teenage girl’s ring and it was a teenage girl’s ring. Still, I’m sure I’d take it out of the jewelry box now and then, if only to tilt it in just the right way and watch that red light glow like fire.
What about you, Dear Readers? What have you lost?