Well, it's over. Last night my sister and I divided up my Mom's jewelry. I got the Sicilian Hex ring, as I had wanted. I also got a little ring for my daughter to have when she gets older. My sister's daughter took the diamond bracelet my mom always wore. It looked so pretty on my niece that I almost cried. She looks more like my mom than my sister or me. It just looked "right" on her wrist. The division went off with little "to-do". I think I had prepared myself for it and just kinda went numb.
I looked at the ring for a long time tonight, even wearing it on my finger for awhile. But it didn't feel like it belonged to me. Maybe if my mother had actually given it to me at some point in time, I'd feel like it did. But dividing it up last night at my kitchen table did not make it feel like mine. It feels like me, wearing my mother's ring. I felt the same way when I watched the little velvet bag with the rest of the jewelry plop into my sister's purse. It felt like she was taking Mom's things. It felt like we all were.
I will always treasure the ring. I will think of the Sicilian Hex story often as I wear it. I will use it to honor my mother's memory, and keep the stories alive. Maybe the ring shouldn't feel like mine. Maybe it should always be hers.
I'm just glad it's over.
A Record Week At The Compound
22 hours ago