What Does A Ring Say About Love? That popped into my head this morning, as I thought about how my story, A Cry From The Deep
The Claddagh Ring symbolizes “love and friendship”. A wedding ring is a concrete promise of commitment…till death do us part. Eternity…a beginning without an end. Everlasting love.
Wikipedia states that it’s “widely believed that the first examples of wedding rings were found in ancient Egypt.” Back then, about 3000 years ago, rings were made by braiding hemp or reeds and then exchanged by the bride and groom. The circle was the symbol of eternity, and the ring a sign of never-ending love between the couple.
In my novel, I talk about a promise that would not die. A ring from Ireland symbolizes that promise. I wonder if you have a ring that has special meaning, one that you will carry to the end of your life.
Ponte Vecchio, Florence, Italy
I was married with one ring, a simple white gold band, and then later when my husband and I were backpacking through Europe with our children, fifteen years later, we found another on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, Italy.
We saw this artisan carving 18K gold rings and they were so beautiful that we bought matching ones.
I treasure it but notice, because of the softness of the gold, the design is wearing with time, much as I am.
I remember my mother talking about her ring, the one she got from my father in the dirty thirties, the depression that hit North America like a knockout punch. She said, “my diamond is so puny.” I think this was after she had admired my mother-in-law’s that was a karat and a half. Jealousy had reared its ugly head. My mother’s ring was indeed tiny, but was it really that important how big her diamond was, or was it more important that it was the symbol of my father’s love for her? It was all he could afford.
In my story, the ring has its own journey. Do any of your rings have stories to tell?
Lovely post. I do wear a plain gold band, but the rings you bought are beautiful. I’d be tempted if I saw those!
Thanks, Julia. I didn’t buy a Claddagh ring. That’s the ring in my novel. But we did buy the matching ones on Ponte Vecchio, so long ago. There’s always a story behind a ring, isn’t there? Knowing how thoughtful Robert and I are about purchases, it must’ve been a good deal back then.
I was married young, so my diamonds too were tiny, and the bands were fine. To save them from wear, I had them soldered together. Unfortunately the diamonds in the two bands didn’t line up quite right, and I was forever pushing at them. Eventually I broke them. At a more financially healthy stage of our marriage, I designed a replacement ring, which I wear to this day — there isn’t another like it — but the others weren’t discarded in some forgotten box. My husband now wears them as a gold nugget on a chain.
My mother-in-law was married in the early 30’s, and her diamond was so small you almost couldn’t see it. She lovingly called it her depression diamond, and when she died and was placed in the joint plot with her husband who predeceased her by many years, we buried the ring with her.
Thanks for sharing your story, Kristin. Every ring is special when it’s given with love. I was going to take a photo of my mother’s ring, which like your mother-in-law’s is so tiny you can hardly see it, but my daughter has it now as a keepsake.