I wore it on my right hand after E was born.
I wore it in place of my wedding rings when I needed it in my second pregnancy.
I wore it on my right hand after L was born.
And then it broke when I was in Puerto Rico. I found out today it can't be repaired.
October 14, 2009
Still life with memory band
I was sentimentally distraught when I received the news by phone and indulged a good wallow across my lunch hour as I drove to the jewelry store. But then the lovely jeweler said, "You have so much gold here. Let's make something new. It will be for new memories, with the material of the old."
I snuggled E at her bedtime. She lay her head on my shoulder and draped her arm across my belly as I read her a book. I realized that her toes were brushing my knee.
She used to be the same body as me, the same bloodstream, my six-pound barnacle. And now she's from me, yes, but so much more. Her sister, my seven-pound barnacle, is nearly as long.
A new ring. From what was, but more. For a lifetime on my right hand.
If these broken strands could talk they'd say: I'll Be Back.