The ties that bind

For Christmas I was given a piece of jewelry that has been in my family for generations. It is a ring that belonged to my great-grandmother (Nan), one she wore until after a stroke caused her to fall down the stairs. After she died it was cut off but no one has worn it since (41+ years ago). I was the only great grandchild my Nan knew. My cousin Cristin was born after her stroke but Nan wasn't able to get to know her. She called me "Nan's Doll Baby" and from all accounts, she was one of my favorite people, too. I was two when she died.

The ring is lovely, three diamonds in a white gold, filigree setting. It sparkles and makes my hand look beautiful. But even more than being lovely, it is a tangible symbol of from where I come. It ties me to Nan and to her only child, my Gram, and to my Mom. And hopefully it will tie my granddaughter(s) and great-granddaughter(s) to all of us one day. The idea of ties that bind are important to me, family is important to me. Knowing I carry family names with me is an honor. Catching a glimpse of my Gram's smile when I look into a mirror is magic. I am but a square in a huge quilt made up of Katherines and Elizabeths, Virginias and Elsies and Anns. I fit here, I belong. My "button nose" is only borrowed, my fierce loyalty was taught to me by the women who raised me. My passions and intellect, my big heart and silly wit are all gifts that are not mine alone but a compilation of the amazing and strong women who blessed me even before I was born.

I hope the magic in this ring will continue to bind, that it might be strong enough to help heal some of the places where the twine is stretched too thin. For all the wonder I feel about many in my family, I truly miss my sister with whom I have little contact. But that is another blog for another day. Today, I am thankful for all the history I have of my family and for the many Englishes and Maces and Brews who have made me who I am. Thank you!