BACK TO MILWAUKEE...The Ring
I walked into the wholesale shop, told the man my mission. He handed me a paper to sign, gave me the package and I left.
Took it to West Bend and Mr. Bruhy opened it and took out two rings and he put on his eye piece, the one jeweler’s wear and told me it was going to be at least forty-five minutes to an hour.
Finally he returned and immediately gave me his personal expert opinion about the quality of the two diamond rings revealing that one was flawed, the larger stone and the other in his opinion what they call flawless. The smaller stone had good color but fewer carats. He advised me to take the smaller gem. I did and left his shop and returned to the car and headed towards home. And I don’t even recall the amount that my dad paid for the ring.
On the way home I stopped at a dime store and bought a fake ring to fool my mother on Christmas Eve...so unlike me. I’m serious and I don’t know why I did that. It was so unlike me.
On Christmas Eve my father took ill and the doctor was summoned and he gave my father a shot, and my dad missed the festivities and I gave my mother the FAKE ring and she put it on smiling and went about feeding guests and happy as a lark.
My dad awakened two days later and immediately went and got the ring and gave it to my mother, and I could tell she liked the FAKE one better.
On special occasions she would let me wear the ring like on New Years Eve or a party at the club and when she entered the nursing home I inherited the ring...mine to wear whenever.
When my daughter came to care for me after heart surgery the rings all went into the safe deposit box because I kept losing my blue earrings when we went to town. And finally one day one earring was lost and never found. She said recently I looked like a motorcycle hog woman wearing the rings.
About a month ago I needed some papers from the safe deposit box and I told my daughter to bring the jewelry. I took out earrings, my topaz, the emerald ring I bought with the money from my first painting, Aunt Min’s ring, the ring my son gave me, my engagement ring and a ring I had made to kind of match that ring. Had it specially made at a place in Fond du Lac and then there was big joe with the chevron. It had been eleven long years since my heart attack and that big ring looked awesome. It always was a crowd pleaser at parties.
I decided to part with some of my things rather than put ‘em back in the safe deposit box. I had no heirs except my son and daughter being an only child and they both will have no children. and I looked in the telephone yellow pages and found HARRY...AND I called him.
I got a checkbook box and filled it with red tissue paper and put the ring in it and sealed it and said “GOODBYE”...ALMOST A RELIEF TO THINK THAT SOMEONE WOULD be wearing it again. I put the rest of my things on a nightstand and I look at it every day but I took the band with the fourteen diamonds set in platinum and put it on my finger determined to wear it despite repercussions. It’s still on my finger and shall remain there pooh or not. I like pretty and always have...a bird, a picture, a sunset, a tree, a candlestick and a ring and the ring is very PRETTY.
Today I call HARRY. His jewelry store is no North Mayfair Road, Milwaukee.
“Harry, I wrote a story about the ring and I think you should buy it for an investment. My story will be read by millions of people in this country alone. My mother let me wear it. You let your mom wear it for special occasions like Christmas Eve.” We parted that we would handle it after the holidays both of us being so busy, and I told him I would send him the story and he told me that maybe his mother would cough up the money. I told him my up front price and a percentage if he sold the ring at a profit.
No ending this year. My son reminded me that a women appraiser had told me never to take less than blank amount for the ring and that really it should never leave family, but I need cash to live. So be it. I have the diamond band to wear and I don’t go out to parties anymore.
And maybe another mom will we