diamonds. I wear four skinny gold wedding bands, that's it. The only time they have left my hands was when I had surgery a few years ago.
The rings do have stories. One belonged to my mom, one to Rick's dad, one belonged to my mom's best friend, and the other is my wedding band. When I see them on my hands, I feel comfort, and connections. They are me.
Not sure why I never desired diamonds, they are beautiful on others, but when ever I have tried a diamond ring on it looks alien, it does not belong on my hands.
I am often asked about the rings. Once on a plane, a gentleman sitting next to me, asked if I had been married four times. I laughed so hard, he probably thought I had, even when I said no.
Now, I do love vintage, costume jewelry. Old and funky, old and beautiful, I have quite a collection. As my girlfriend Kaye likes to say, I decide what piece I am wearing and then I choose my clothes for the day. I have a couple of really special yoga pieces too. A silver dragon that a friend gave me, and a Tibetan prayer coin, both are sacred to me.
Most days however, I only wear my four gold rings. When I look at my hands, the rings just seem to belong, they complete me. My nieces, Becky and Jayna have made it known that when I leave this body, they want the rings. Cannot imagine the four not together.
So, as I sit here typing tonight, the gold catches the light from my desk lamp, and it shimmers. My hands are not pretty, they look like my grandmother Mammie's, but the rings make them special. Four tiny golden bands, four lives, forever connected.