My Ring

In high school (maybe junior high, but I think high school), my best friend spent a summer in Israel.  When she got back, she gave me this:

It says "Kim" in Hebrew.

All these years, I have worn this ring a lot.  First, because I adore Shari and she was kind and thoughtful enough to get it for me.  Second, because it's cool and unique.  But as the years have gone by, this has become more than just a ring to me.  It is my good luck, it is my strength, it's my comfort and my friend being right here with me.  I suppose if I were a baby, this would be about the same as my blankie.

Usually, I wear gold jewelry on my left fingers and wrist, and silver on my right.  I have several other silver rings that I rotate through, but if I know a day is going to be particularly stressful or difficult, I always reach for this one.  And when I wear it, I know it.  It and my finger have grown quite accustomed to one another over all these years, and I simply know that that ring is the one I'm wearing without having to look down.

I've worn that ring this week.  This week that I put everything of my parents' I could fit in my car and said goodbye to all the rest --- some of which I'm always going to ache for.  This week when I laid the garage door opener on the kitchen counter, knowing I'd never be in that driveway again, would never need that way in.  I've held that ring and I've cried and cried, and it almost always slows my tears down.  Because it is my treasure and it is safety and it is Shari helping me.  And it makes things better.