Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Trinkets and Treasures - No. 5
This delicate ring, so small it fits only on my little finger, was my mother's second wedding ring. Not the ring from her second marriage, but the second ring from her first marriage. My father hocked her original wedding ring when she was in the hospital giving birth to me, their firstborn child. Logic tells me he probably needed money for the hospital bill, but I don't think Mother was ever completely convinced of that.
When my father eventually replaced Mother's original wedding ring, he told her he had chosen this one specifically because of its symbolism: two larger hearts representing each of them and a tiny heart in the middle for me. Whether that was the truth or merely a convenient means of persuading mother to accept a ring of much lower quality than her first one, the story still makes me smile.
You see, my father had a way with words, and it kept him out of trouble on many occasions. Even when he failed to talk himself out of a sitution, he was still proud of that particular talent.
So, if you detect the slightest bit of amused skepticism in regard to the story about the ring, consider this: My father once casually mentioned that he had made "plenty of extra cash" when he was overseas in World War II. How'd he do it? He wrote love letters home for other soldiers -- for a fee.