Lost & Found— A Love Story

Cara/Andrea here,

With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it got me to thinking about all the little things that connect us to the ones we love. This Sunday, we will exchange special gifts, and most likely overindulge in chocolate (there is a good reason that the Aztecs considered it the food of the Gods!) However, amid all the flutter of heart-shaped cards and rose-colored corsets, I began musing on some of the unexpected gifts we get in life, all the more beautiful for their appearing out of nowhere.

So, here’s a short love story.

I was an only daughter, so my mom and I had a special bond, and a shared love of art and books brought us even closer together. As a child, I was already captivated by historical stories, and loved reading about medieval jousts and  knights in armor. So it’s no wonder that from an early age, I was fascinated by her beautiful gold signet ring. Engraved with her family’s crest, it had been a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. I loved that ring . . . and she used to smile at me and say, “Someday it will be yours.” Over the years, there were various birthdays where we planned to have one made for me, but somehow we never got around to it.

It’s been nearly two years since my mom passed away, and that signet ring is one of my treasured mementos. It sat in my jewelry box for a long time, a bit too small to fit on my finger. Then, this past summer I finally decided to have it re-sized so that I could wear it. I chose to take it to a small shop in New Haven. CT,  a bit of a drive for me, because I remembered my mother telling me that the proprietor was a artisan goldsmith who had done a lovely alteration on one of her other rings. I didn’t want to trust my heirloom to just anyone, so off I went.

Derek was there that afternoon, and he listened patiently as I explained my ring's sentimental value and asked him to take great care with it. He looked it over for a moment, and his brow rose a notch. “I remember your mother,” he said. A pause. “She got very mad at me.”

I blinked.

“Yes,” he went on. “She commissioned me to make a ring similar to one she had bought in Turkey. She brought me detailed sketches, and I made a prototype. But then somehow I lost it.” Another pause. “She was not pleased.”

Now, my mother did have a strong personality. And if you said you were going to do something, she took you to task if you didn’t come through.

“So she ended up canceling the order,” he finished.

I smiled. “Well, let’s let bygones be bygones. She thought you were a wonderful craftsman.”

A funny expression crept over his face. “Wait here for a moment,” he said, and then disappeared into the back of his shop. Sounds of rustling and rummaging floated out from behind the half-closed door. Several minutes later he reemerged and opened his hand to reveal a wink of silver. “I found this the other day—it’s the ring your mother designed.”

Staring down at his palm, I blinked again.

“It’s not finished yet,”  he murmured. “But if you want it, I can go ahead . . .”

Did I want it? In a heartbeat!

So now I have another ring connecting me to my mother, all the more special because I never expected it. As  I turned to leave the shop, another woman who was perusing the cases came up to me and said that she couldn’t help overhearing us, and thought it was one of the nicest stories she had ever heard.

I smiled and told her that I was a romance writer . . . But that not even I could have made it up.

So, that’s my love story. How about you? Any unexpected moments in your life  or little love stories that have made your heart sing?

Comments

[Anne Gracie]

Cara/Andrea, what a lovely story. And how nice to have two rings of your mother's to wear.
I don't have any particular story to share. My parents were very romantic though, and I have lots of mementoes they gave each other, including a book my mother sent my father when they were just four months married and he was sent away to war. She wasn't supposed to know where he was being sent, but the book, which was posted via the army headquarters, was a travel guide to the area he was in. I have the book, the inscription and the original addressed brown wrapping paper and stamp, which my father used as a dust cover

[Andrea Penrose]

Anne, what a very special memento to have. Your skin must tingle when you take it up in your hands and think of that story. I'm not all that sentimental, but there are a few things that have great meaning to me—all of them little things that connect me to family.

[gretchen fucio]

Cara, your story about the rings made me sniffle a bit- so wonderful. My daughter is also an only child- I began downsizing a few years ago and asked her if there was anything she wanted to have before I sold or gave it away. I have many antiques and lovely pieces- but she wanted the breadbox from the kitchen. It had more meaning because it was something we had used throughout her childhood, and the fancy glass and china had always just been displayed in cabinets. A lesson to me about value....

[Andrea Penrose]

Thanks for sharing, Gretchen. That's a lovely story. And yes, it's the things that have touched us that have real value—memories make even the most mundane thing precious.

[Anne]

That's a beautiful story - what a gift, to have that from your mom so many years later. And amazing that that jeweler remembered your mother.
I love to serve dinner on one grandmother's dining room table using the other grandmother's china. Makes me remember delicious food and delighted laughter at their tables many years ago.

[Andrea Penrose]

Anne, you are making me smile!

[Mary Jo Putney]

What a wonderful story, Cara! So now you have two rings, and the second a most unexpected gift from the great beyond from your mother.

Mary Jo, wiping away a tear or two

[Andrea Penrose]

Yes, Mary Jo, I considered it a wave from somewhere in the universe—and I waved back. My smile on the drive home stretched from ear to ear.

An addendum to the story: my younger brother commissioned the jeweler to make an identical ring for his wife this past Christmas. So he also gets to share in the connection too.

[Patricia Rice]

Heartwarming stories like that are to be treasured. I don't have any from my childhood. Suffice it to say that when my mother left me the diamond ring she'd never owned until she remarried late in life, I knew how much it meant to her, and I wear it in her memory.

Count your blessings, Andrea.

[Jo Beverley]

Andrea, that's a lovely story. That ring was clearly waiting for you.

It is things like that that make the magic of our stories, whether we use a particular incident or not.

Jo

[Andrea Penrose]

Pat, glad you have a good memory too, and a ring that makes you smile.

Magic is the word, Jo. It's the spirit of how we connect with the people we love, in so many different and unexpected ways that inspires our stories.

[Lyn S]

I love the picture you posted. Your mom sparkles. (Even more than any jewelry can).

[Andrea Penrose]

Thank you, Lyn. What a lovely thing to say!

[Keira Soleore]

Andrea, what a lovely story!!!

[Andrea Penrose]

Thanks, Keira!

[Jim]

Several years ago I found a jade stone my father had polished at sometime before in passed as a tie tack. I knew he had planned to give me that but had not for some reason. I had it made into a ring which I now wear almost every day. Good feeling isn't it.

[Sherrie Holmes]

Oops, appears my earlier comment didn't get posted. Probably my fault. Andrea, I loved your post! It is so sweet and romantic, and such a lovely post, pre-Valentine's Day. Thank you so much for sharing. I love your Mom's hair in that picture. It is so shiny and pretty!

[Sherrie Holmes]

Sherrie Holmes--queen of the overuse of the word "so." *g*

[Andrea Penrose]

Sherrie, you are the queen of "smiles" because your wonderfully funny, insightful e-mails make mysun shine each day!

[Kim]

Thanks for the heartwarming story. It demonstrates that love can be shared across time.

I share my unexpected moment - my friend Mary sent me a special package before Christmas. She made a beautiful bracelet from buttons her Grandmother collected, including a button from her grandfather's WWI uniform.

I met Mary in line at the Book Fair for RT/Orlando in 2006. Since then, we have emailed each other - she lives in St. Louis and I now live in Honolulu. Mary organized her office to support my projects with the USO. We even shared a room at last year's RWA National Convention. But her kind gesture to share her Grandmother's buttons touched my heart. I wore the bracelet today for an awards ceremony at Hickam AFB. I received many compliments for the clever design and even more when I told its story.

[Andrea Penrose]

Yes, Jim, it's great!

[Andrea Penrose]

Kim, thanks for sharing your story! What a lovely bracelet and friendship. These are the things that are truly important in life, aren't they—the buttons, the cards, the everyday things that are worth infinitely more their weight in gold.

[Patricia Barraclough]

What a lovely story. I have many antiques from both sides of my family and now from my husband's family. Each piece brings back special memories.

[Elizabeth Hawksley]

What a lovely story. I do enjoy your blogs, Cara.

After my mother died, I found six pretty little buttons in a box - they came from an eighteenth century waistcoat. They have dark blue enamel petals trimmed with gold and a tiny diamond in the centre. I had two of them made into ear-rings and I gave my brother the other four and he had them made into cuff-links.

I liked the idea of re-cycling them and showing them off in a different way; much better than having them sitting in a box. Now they give pleasure to both of us.

[Andrea Penrose]

Elizabeth, thank you for the compliment—coming from you that's high praise, indeed!

I love your button story. How creative to turn a treasured memento into something that can give you joy on a regular basis. I've done the same with other tiny treasure, and it really does feel special to wear them.

[Andrea Penrose]

Patricia, it's so nice to hear that you also feel the same way about connecting to family.

[Mary Gramlich]

Buttons...my link to my maternal grandmother.

In the late 1800's early 1900's my grandmother worked as seamstress in a clothing factory located in downtown St. Louis, MO. My grandmother remained a seamstress after she left the factory and married. So her entire life she saved every button she ever had purchased and used or didn't use and placed them in a tin that she gave to my mother who then gave to me about 10 years ago.

This tin has been sitting on a shelf all this time not knowing what I should do with them. then I walked into a store and saw that a woman was making bracelets from buttons - light bulb goes off and button bracelets are produced.

I had as many made as I could from the buttons that were useable in the tin but two particular bracelets stand out for me. I had a bracelet made for my mother from a dress that I still had a picture of my grandmother in. I gave that to my mother for Christmas with the picture and she could not stop crying telling me how much this meant to her.

I also was able to give a dear friend who is retired military a bracelet made from my grandfather's WWI uniform.

While these may seem like a strange gift to others this is special to me because my grandmother died when I was 6 years old. These buttons provided a lifetime of ties to her that I would not otherwise have but I will always remember the buttons she collected and the treasures she created for us.

[Andrea Penrose]

What a wonderful story, Mary. I can just imagine how your mother felt, with both the picture and the tangible connection to her own mother. And how amazingly thoughtful of you to create it. I just love hearing stories like these!