Late Nights

Sitting up late, listening to music and pondering life. I am oh so thankful for the wonderful music selections on Elizabeth Williams' blog...yes, I must admit, sometimes I open the blog just to listen to the music (See my Inspirational Blogs for link). How I get through being a starving artist. But I'm loving every minute of it...and I can't wait to tell my kids about it someday. There's something romantic about doing what you love even if it doesn't pay as much as servitude. Whenever Mom tells me of her twenties I see it as so romantic...working hard, making money to travel and ski, and just scraping by. It's always made me think, wow, Mom must have been so cool. :) And maybe someday my kids will think that of me...secretly, of course. ; )

My latest thoughts have been of writing...sort of getting back to my roots. Writing is how I express my deepest feelings and it's the only thing that truly satisfies. I'd like to write a story about an antique...to explore its past and the emotions experienced by its owners. Such as...a ring. I happen to own a particular ring that intrigues me immensely. It's an antique white gold ring with a pearl. Inside the ring there is the inscription 'Happiness'. I purchased it at a local candy store...on their shelf with antiques. The candy store itself is interesting because it is located in an old mill along the same road where my parents lived when they were first married - not far from my house. My father went to school with one of the owners, Harriet. The ring was purchased for $10-15...pretty good for a gold ring. : ) Wonder if they just figured it was a cheap piece of costume jewelry?

So, who could have owned the ring? Was it given on a special occasion? Who was she? Was it given by a lover? Did they marry? Did they live a long and happy life together? Was she happy?

It's so sad how our possessions outlive us, isn't it? Doesn't it seem strange to see engagement rings and wedding bands in antique stores and really realize that the owners are probably long gone. These rings that once meant so much...the world...to them are now without a home. Not loved, not cared for, not worth what they were in the eyes of the woman that received them. How sad. What will happen to my enagement ring someday? Will it be loved, passed from child to grandchild and on, or will someone abandon it somewhere where no one will know a thing about its provenance. If only precious things like wedding rings, evening gowns, and old houses could tell us their stories. I think if they could, perhaps we would understand life so much more clearly. We would realize how fragile and short life is and how profound and meaningful each moment can be, if we allow it.