Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a child. What became of it?

Well, that was easy. It didn’t take but a second to think of what that was.
My prized possession was a gold baby ring with 3 pearls and 2 bits of turquoise embedded in the ring. I think the value was not only in the beauty of the ring, but in the fact that it had been my Dad’s baby ring, and it went to his first born. By the way, I’m the second child.

My sister, Holly, was the ‘first born’, and bearer of the ring. It was in her very pink jewelry box in her very pink room. The room was bright with pink curtains, a bright pink fur rug, and wild psychadelic 70’s multicolored flowered bedspread with pink pillows. I had the yellow jewelry box in the very pale yellow room with the green rugs and the same psychadelic 70’s multicolored flower bedspread. My pillows were, ofcourse, yellow and green.

Holly loved barbies, dress ups, and all of the very girly things. I didn’t. She had long beautiful hair. I had a pixie cut. I would play barbies if we could let them swim in our fish pond in the back or climb the ladder to our tree house outside. But, other than that, I had no interest in Barbies. So when I had a Barbie that Holly wanted to trade for, I thought good and hard about what I wanted. As a younger sister, there were many things I secretly coveted from my big sister. I looked up to her and admired her and what she had always seemed to look better on her. But then, I had it. The ring. I would absolutely love to trade for the ring.

And she did. A barbie for an heirloom. She seemed pleased and I was so very pleased as well, but I bet that she had a sinking feeling in her gut soonafter trading. That beautiful golden baby ring was meant to be hers, and one day, her first born’s.

Well, that ring was in my yellow jewelry box for years. I wished I could’ve put it on, but it was of course a baby’s ring and wouldn’t fit on my finger. So, for decades it would sit in my jewelry box. It moved from the yellow jewelry box, to the cherry wood box with the glass top, to the beautifully carved jewelry box I have now. But it’s not there any more. Whenever I saw that beautiful gold ring, I knew that it was gotten on a bad trade.

Holly and I are in our forties now. And the ring? Yes, I know where it is. Holly no longer has the pink jewelry box, but it is now back among her prized possessions. I can picture every beautiful detail of the ring…but it wasn’t mine to have in the first place. There are some things that just aren’t worth keeping if they weren’t really ours to begin with! Am still ‘attached’ to it, but it’s right where it needs to be.