One of the main reasons for starting Gem Gossip was so I could connect with others that share a love for jewelry, just like myself. Whenever I find other people that love jewelry and have amazing collections, it is so fun and refreshing to talk about jewelry and what… Read More
The following excerpt is contributed by Bernadette Morra, Editor-in-Chief of Firstwater News, a premiere website covering news about fine jewelry.
Every time I look at my right hand, I think of my mother, and will even more so now that she has passed away.
Of the trio of rings I wear on my ring finger, the centrepiece is a gold band that I used to admire on her.
The other is a Cartier rolling ring – the first piece of jewelry my husband ever gave me. The third is a simple gold band I bought for myself in high school.
But the star of the grouping is the ring that my mother hasn’t been able to get over her arthritic knuckles for years.
It’s actually a man’s ring from Birks - a ridged wedding band with diamond chips stuck between the multileveled striations. I am sure there is more technical terminology to describe the design. It reminds me of the Grand Canyon.
I hate to think of the type of man that might wear such a thing. But on the hand of a stylish woman like my mother was before her first massive stroke more than 20 years ago, it looked right. Better than right, in fact. And oddly, though my taste in jewelry is more minimalist than hers was, the ring suited us both.
I don’t know how much my mother paid for the ring, purchased back in the ‘70s. But I do know that she got more than her money’s worth. And that is just one of the things that is so marvelous about buying fine jewelry.
Jewelry endures – both in terms of lifespan, if it is properly cared for, and in terms of appeal. This one ring has been enjoyed on a daily basis for more than 30 years.
And it doesn’t look any the worse for wear. It’s not an important ring, in terms of the quality of the design or stones, but it’s become a family heirloom and what could be more important than that?
And when the day comes that I can no longer get the ring over my knuckles, I’ll go back to admiring it on someone else’s hand.
by: Bernadette Morra Read More