Many things in daily life remind me of Gumpy. Conversations with friends remind me of him. Lying awake in our loft, hearing stillness reminds me of the farm and how quiet things were when the crickets went to sleep. Gatherings with our neighbors remind me of him too.
If I really want a reminder of him, I just look at the wedding band I wear. It was not the ring I had expected, yet it is still a symbol of my love for my wife and the respect I have for my grandfather. The ring I thought I was getting was a nice Black Hills gold ring he purchased in South Dakota on our trip back from Idaho several years ago.
The summer my dad left, my grandparents decided to take my sister and I on a trip to visit our Uncle Jim and his family. We were gone for almost a full month, with stops at Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse memorial. Everyone, including me, endured my generally bad attitude. We all enjoyed a very memorable trip.
After visiting the memorials, we stopped in a little town to pan for gold (I found three flecks). Gumpy loved Black Hills gold. After panning, we stopped in a little jewelry store where he found the perfect pinky ring. It was a beautiful ring, but the jeweler had a little trouble getting it sized properly while we waited, so we agreed to return the next day before heading back on the road for home.
When we picked it up in the morning, I begged to try the ring on. Mind you, I was 13 years old at the time and I was trying on a ring that Gumpy had sized to fit his right ring finger. It didn’t fit well on my ring finger, but it fit snuggly on my pinky. A little to snuggly in fact.
I said something to my sister when I was having trouble getting it off. When my finger started to turn a little blue, Ema overheard us struggling to get the ring off. Gumpy offered his usual option of amputation, which was usually amusing at any time EXCEPT when I couldn’t get the ring off my finger! Using cold water and soap, the ring eventually came off.
When the ordeal was over, he told me he would will the ring to me.
Unfortunately, he lost the ring in the yard at the farm. I was a little bummed when I found out because it would have been a great reminder of him and of that trip to Idaho.
So, I decided to ask for Gumpy’s wedding ring. When I told Ema I would like his ring, I was not sure what she would say. Gladys and I slipped down to Toledo to get married six short weeks after Gumpy passed away. I was afraid I was asking for too much too soon.
When she gave me the ring, I was beaming. It needed to be sized, his fingers shrank a bit with age and mine grew bigger. But it was his ring. It was his symbol to the world that he loved my grandmother. The only time it ever left his finger was when he was in the hospital and then only under protest. He took his commitment to Ema seriously.
Sometimes, I look at my left ring finger with the conflicting emotions of love and loss. I love Gladys and I am glad I found the right mate. I am excited that such an intelligent, loving woman chooses to spend her life with me. I loved Gumpy and I am glad he was my grandfather. I am excited that such a warm, genuine, caring man chose to spend the end of his life looking out for me. I am humbled to have this one symbol that reminds me daily of their loving kindness. I pray I live into the promise of this ring.
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