Ring in the New

I’ve been fortunate to have visited several places around the world. In most of these places, I’ve picked up a piece of jewelry. It’s not a given or an absolute, but I like the idea of having a little reminder of the place around my neck or on my finger. Just last week I started to think of what my “Iowa” jewelry would be. Trust me, I have random earrings from Target and impulse buys that resulted in a few necklaces, but I really wanted something that would be a little reminder of home.

I thought maybe in the next month we could be on the hunt to purchase this “perfect piece” when I realized that I already had it. Six months ago, we found this ring in a pawn shop. The hubby and I love to go to antique shops and thrift stores to look around. It’s like visiting a museum that I can take home if I so choose. It reminds me of a past I never knew and the items within carry all sorts of stories of their own. Sometimes you have to wade through a lot of junk to find the good stuff, but it’s so interesting when you do.

While I do not know the story of this ring before I owned it, I know the story it has with me. It wasn’t just any pawn shop (and for the record, we frequent antique shops far more than pawn shops). This was the one on Ingersoll in Des Moines. More importantly, this is the first place the hubby and I ever went together. It’s a bit of a strange story, and we weren’t dating, but were rather resisting the idea at the time. I’d never been to a pawn shop before and didn’t particularly have interest in it then either. He looked at instruments as I sat patiently waiting to go. It’s not exactly the kind of place you take a girl for a first date, but in all fairness, it wasn’t really a date. Just the same, it’s one of the first memories of being together. Right after Christmas this year, we were with friends and stopped in again. Gravitating to the jewelry, I found this ring and the hubby insisted we should get it (after a little cleaning). I considered it my “New Year’s ring” and wore it to the party that week where we celebrated with a bunch of friends and danced in the new year.

Now, this is not about placing value on worldly things. Its worth is ultimately insignificant but what matters more is what it reminds me of. My husband. Our friends. Our first “date.” Our home state. The end of one thing and the start of another.