What Happened To My Adoptive Mom’s Wedding Ring…and Me

Okay, so i’ve been tearing around the house looking for something I usually would have cared less about.

Was it in coat pockets? Could it be in my bedside table? Did it fall from my skinny fingers without my knowledge?

This lost something remained in my jewelry drawer, and frankly, until lately, I considered it junk–two silver bands, filthy from age, with the main diamond missing.

Oh, God, please help me find it.

I couldn’t believe myself.

Up until then, when and if ever my thoughts turned to mom, I remembered only the shouting matches at lunch hour and her obsessive smoking, like a smoke stack.

I came from a hard place, from desperate beginnings.

My adoptive mom was insecure about who she was as a person, but even more so about her ability to parent me.

I grew up with a mom who was hard to love.

And, she raised a daughter who wouldn’t bond with her, no matter what.

There were no warm memories.

I wonder if she had any warm memories?

So, what was going on inside me?

Why the desperation over old, tarnished pieces of junk?

Let’s back up to a few weeks ago when I spotted those rings buried beneath other jewelry.

Taking them out, something strange started happening deep inside me.

I thought about my late Dad picking them for Mom.

Where did he get them? And, why did he pick this design? And…what was it like for both of them when he asked her to marry him? Did they hug, kiss? Did he get down on one knee?

And, for her?

What was it like when he placed those rings on her hand?

Was she surprised? Was she full of dreams for what their future might hold?

Then, came the thought–get them cleaned and repurposed. A beautiful new diamond for the main ring and tiny diamond chips for the band.

Husband, Bob, loved the idea and was in agreement that it would be a special investment.

These rings could be daily reminders to me of the hard places I’ve come from as well as the new places I’m now experiencing.

Let me emphasize–

Never. Never. Never have I had these kind of thoughts. Thoughts that looked at life from a different perspective. Thoughts that brought those I once knew to life.

And, so you’re probably wondering what caused the shift in perspective? What caused pieces of junk to become treasures?

All I’ll be able to share now is that a major overhaul has been done inside of me.

I’ve been forced by current circumstances into a crisis of forgiveness, which has required deep, heavy recovery work.

Bottom line?

I believe adoptees and their moms can heal from painful beginnings.

And, I continue to be surprised by my new perspective on life and my past, down to the last detail…a junky ring becoming my treasure.


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