When I look at my left hand I can’t help but think of the goose. In the stack of sapphires and white gold is a ring that is hers. I had it made shortly after she was born with the intention that I would give it to her on some special day. I’ve worn the ring for 17 years without telling her that it was hers. last night while we were at the bug’s concert she was taking my rings off of my hand and putting them on her own. One by one she asked their origin. When she got to this ring my response was simple, “that one is yours”. Her eyes grew big as saucers. “Read the inscription”, I offered. A smile spread across her face. Sometimes the most wonderful moments happen in the most normal of places. Without pomp. No great reveal. Just a sweet unexpected response to curiosity. A beautifully unscripted pocket of time, perfect in its imperfection. It can feel like the background drops out of focus and it’s just you two in the moment. Life is made more rich by the collection of these moments. Make a mental scrapbook of them to carry with you for your days with far less magic. Or to revel in when you are missing that person to the point of heart sickness.
It is all gone too quickly as was the case for our moment. In typical sibling rivalry she asks, “does the bug have a ring?” A simple shake of my head and we skipped to the other side of the moment. Over, but for me never to be forgotten.