If I had to pick one particular symbol in my possession that reminds me of a special event in my life, it would definitely be my grandmother's engagement ring. How it came to belong to me is certainly a day in my life that I will never forget. My grandmother died in September of 1995, just two months before the birth of my daughter. When I arrived in North Carolina for her funeral, I was exhausted from the long drive up from Florida, and I was feeling weak from the mixture of pregnancy and grief. The funeral felt like a dream and everyone and everything around me felt as if it were moving in slow motion. I can remember standing beside her casket and feeling overwhelmed with sadness; I was in so much pain I thought my heart would just cease beating inside of my chest. I was the first of Mary Frances Gardiner's grandchildren, and most would say I was her favorite; although grandma's were not supposed to admit such things. Her death was especially hard for me to deal with, I felt as though part of me had died along with her.
After we had a graveside service at the cemetery, my family and I got together at the home of one of my grandmother's sisters. Going back to my great aunt's house for food and coffee made me angry. I kept asking myself, "How could these people be sitting here eating?" I felt as if I had just lost my best friend, and the added disappointment of knowing my grandmother would not be alive to see her first great grandchild seemed to be far too much for me to bear. I was feeling so sorry for myself and I was very angry with God. Just then, I spotted my grandfather slumped over in a chair, far off in a dark corner of the den. I knew in my heart that the grief that my grandfather was experiencing had to be insurmountable, even for one hundred men to bear. I knew that I had lost a special family member, but now I was realizing that this man had just buried his lovely wife.
Throughout the years as I had been growing up, my grandaddy would always tell me how honored and proud he was to be married to my grandma. She was gone now, and he looked as though he would soon die himself. I slowly crept up to where he was sitting, and I sat on the floor beside his chair. He turned his glance to look down at me and his expression changed to one of those obviously false smiles, the kind of smile that someone gives you when they don't want you to worry about them. I knew there were no words that I could say to make his pain go away, so I just laid my hand on top of his and told him that I loved him. I watched my grandfather as he lifted his fingers to his neck and began to fumble with his shirt buttons, then he removed a thin gold chain he was wearing and slid my grandmother's engagement ring from it. I recognized this ring, and I knew the story behind it.
My grandparents were married young, and my grandfather could not afford to give my grandmother an engagement ring, only a gold wedding band. Several years, three children, and many grandchildren later, my grandfather presented my grandmother with her first and only diamond ring. She cherished this ring, wearing it even when the arthritis in her hands was at its worst. Now my grandfather was reaching for my finger, he was giving that symbol of their love to me. Of course I began to protest, but he wouldn't hear it. He only told me to keep the ring safe, and that he knew that my grandma wanted me to have it. In my heart I believed him, I could feel that what he was telling me was the truth. After sitting there at his side for a moment, I struggled to my feet; my pregnant belly sticking so far out in front of me, I thought I would topple over at any moment. I knew I shouldn't say too much, so I bent down and kissed my grandfather on the forehead; I didn't want to spoil the moment. There were no more words spoken between my grandfather and me that day, but we exchanged many loving looks with one another.
When I look at my grandmother's engagement ring now, the one thing that stands out in my mind the most is how happy and surprised she was when my grandfather gave it to her. I was only a little girl, but I remember the look she had on her face. She was smiling, and I know she's somewhere now smiling down on me. I'm sure that wherever she is, she is pleased to know that I keep the special symbol of the love she shared with my grandfather close to my heart, and that I have her ring to share with my daughter someday.
My grandparents are together now; they have been since January 1999 when my grandfather passed away. I am so proud to know that my grandfather made certain that the love he shared with my grandmother would live on by giving me the most sacred symbol of their unbreakable bond, he gave that love to me.
