When Rich and I got engaged, I didn't want a huge ring that would break the bank, so we got a third-carat diamond in a 4-prong Tiffany setting on a plain gold band. The wedding rings were a little fancier, white gold sandwiched between yellow gold. I had a terrible time getting his ring onto his finger at the wedding. These didn't last that long, though. His was stolen in Viet Nam, and mine was cutting off circulation on my fingers. When we lived in Arkansas, then, we went to a jewelry store with our 5-year-old son and bought plain gold bands, which have been the wedding rings ever since.

My 25th anniversary present from Rich was a circle of 12 small diamonds. This set looks great. The following year I was sitting on the front porch with a friend, looked down at my rings, and my engagement diamond was gone! Well, I had washed the car on the front yard, so it was possible the diamond had fallen out in the yard. We looked and looked. Rich even set up the shopvac with a stocking filter and vacuumed the front yard. Nothing. I went to bed and had a bit of a chat with St. Anthony. (I never believe in St. Anthony till I'm desperate, and he always comes through. Then I don't believe in him again.) The next morning I got up, went to the palm tree where I'd poured out the carwash bucket, looked down, and there, sparkling in the dawn sunlight, was my diamond! I didn't believe my luck. Once I'd picked it up, I looked around, just in case the diamond mine was in operation, but the other sparkles were all dew. We got the ring fixed and tightened up.

I have other rings I like. When I was a young teen, some friends of my grandfather visited and the wife gave me an opal-and-diamond chip ring. When my paternal grandmother saw it, some years later, she said it was just like her engagement ring. My Mom had my Uncle Fred's (this is not incest: she was my ex-aunt and my foster Mom) Naval miniature as a wedding ring. She had cut it so she could wear it when she gained a lot of weight, so I'll need to have it fixed, and that's on the schedule. I also have a fake star sapphire which was given me by a friend that I enjoy.

My Nana had a 3 carat ring set in platinum which my Mom inherited. She had fat fingers, so had it stretched. (She didn't cut this one, but had it done right.) Meanwhile, my aunt, the one who just died, got an heirloom ring from Jim's aunt, at least 3 carats and a blue white, high and sparkly. She, too, once lost the diamond, in the pipes, but they managed to get it out. Then along about 1990, she lost the ring. They looked and looked and looked, and never found it. Therefore, when my Mother was in the hospital for her last illness, she told me to give Patty the ring with the injunction "Don't lose THIS one!" I took it to Casper in the summer of 1991. Patty was thrilled, but said she would return it when she died. I protested, after all, this isn't really MY family heirloom. (I'd already taken back Mom's half of the 12-place sterling flatwear over Patty's protests. It doesn't seem fair to split that set up. Granddaddy got it in pre-war China at sweatshop prices, and it's lovely.) There are four of Nana's granddaughters who should have more right to the ring. On the other hand, there ARE four of them. (I got the china cabinet and the dining room table, as well as the ship, from that family through my Mother. I hardly feel like I was ignored.) Patty, however, insisted. She mentioned it a few times on the phone since, and I stopped arguing.

Rich remembered the ring when Patty died. He thought I should mention it, but our family has never picked over bones, and I didn't want to be the one to break that tradition. I figured if I get it, I get it, if I don't, I don't. The next day Jim called. He wanted to tell me about Patty's death, and to assure me he was sending the ring when he found time. I wasn't about to negate his good intentions and his wife's benevolence and say "I don't want it", I just told him to take his time. My plan is to wait till after the first of the year and sell it. (Tax reasons not to do so right away.)

My wedding set has been irritating my finger with the water weight, so I haven't worn them much of the summer. I put them back on last weekend, and then Tuesday my finger was swollen again and I took them off again. That afternoon I got the registered package from the jeweller. It took twenty minutes to bust into the package, and there was the ring. The jeweller apparently cleaned it as well as packaging it. I slipped it on my finger (the only one it fits is the wedding ring finger) and mighod, what a headlight! It's huge, it's gorgeous. It doesn't belong on my ugly little hands. (All the kids have bigger hands than I, and prettier ones. Besides the short fingers and knobby knuckles, my nails are spatulate and brittle. Rings are wasted on me.) I waved my fingers at Rich and he said "you're showing me your ring" and then he realized which ring I was showing him. It's really pretty, but I still think it's going to go. Meanwhile, I want to get back to wearing my wedding set in Pittsburgh, but I'm wearing this one at the moment. (It's actually bigger than Monica's!)

I called Jim to announce it had arrived, and he'd just cooked a steak dinner for my cousin, so he's doing all right so far. Another thing he's sending soon is the paper doll my Mom made for Patty. Her paper dolls were a definite work of art. I'm looking forward to that.

Ten fingers aren't enough!