“But what happened to the diamond? “ I asked my mother. I was ten years old and in her treasure box I  had discovered a ring with a missing stone, and she was explaining that it was the ring my dad had given to her as an engagement ring. She had lost the stone from the setting many years before . . . before I was even born . . . but had kept the setting because…. well, because my dad had given it to her.

When he had asked about a ring she had scoffed, “I don’t want a ring – I want a new cookstove.”  And so my father had purchased a cookstove for his new bride and whether he couldn’t afford a diamond or he preferred rubies, I never knew. But, she explained, it was a ruby that she had worn in the beautiful gold setting that he had also given to her as an engagement ring. Over the years of rolling biscuit dough and washing clothes in a wash tub, she had lost the ruby but held on to the setting. And after my father died it was one of the few things she had that he had given to her and it was that setting that I loved to look as a little girl and hoped that I, too, might someday have such a beautiful ring.

Many, many years later my sister Minnie asked her if she could have the setting. I was grown by then and my mother explained that while she had not really wanted to part with the ring, she had given it to her because she did not foresee a time when she would have the money to replace the stone and someone might as well enjoy it. Minnie took the ring, replaced the stone and returned it to my mother who treasured it as though it were a 12 carat diamond.

 Before she died Mom asked each of us if there was something special of hers that we wanted. I responded immediately, “Your ruby ring,” Her response was just as  quick: “ No you can’t have that. It belongs to Minnie.”  Fair  enough. I don’t remember what I chose in its place.

Many, many years pass and my older sister Lila and I travel to Texas to see Minnie. We all know the purpose of this visit is to say goodbye to her. She is dying of cancer. We are there fewer than 10 minutes when Minnie takes us to her room:  “Come in here, girls, I have something to give you. “ She opened a jewelry box where she kept my mother’s solid gold wedding band and her ruby engagement ring. “Lila, you take the wedding band. And Sherry, you should have the ruby.”

 I have worn that ruby ring every day since, and every day it reminds me of my mother, my father who gave it to her, and their love for one another.

Last week I sat in an upstairs room going through a chest of Lila’s things with her daughters.

“We think you should have Grandma’s wedding, band, Sherry”. And so I took this very generous gift and placed it on my finger next to the ruby our father had chosen for her ….. and we all agreed that that was the how the set should be worn.

And now on my right hand I wear the ruby engagement ring purchased by my father for his young bride of 20 and the band with which he sealed his vow to her till death parted them. And I think of my parents, but also of my two amazing sisters who held these treasures in protective custody for awhile and of my generous nieces who left them with me. And I am reminded that a love story does not end with the passing of the loved one – it is just passed on.