Mom’s Ring

Years after Mom died, Dad was still praying for a sign that she was watching over him.

The year my dad turned 80, my brother and I decided to throw a surprise party for him at the local community center. We invited practically everybody in our small Louisiana town—the place would be packed with Dad’s friends. The night before, I stayed over at Dad’s house. He was looking forward to the party, but seemed down. I knew why. One person couldn’t be at the party—Mom. She’d passed away a few years before, and we both missed her so much. God, I prayed, please give Dad a sign that Mom is watching over him.

Mom and Dad were perfect for each other. He loved her so much, he couldn’t wait to save enough money for a ring before he proposed. It wasn’t until their 40th wedding anniversary that Dad finally could afford to buy a diamond engagement ring. Mom wore it so proudly for so many years—at least until the day she lost it.

She was making jellies for a local crafts show and didn’t want her ring to get sticky. She removed the ring and placed it on the windowsill—or so she thought. When she had bottled the last jar of jelly, she searched for it everywhere. My father even took apart the sink pipes, thinking it might have fallen down the drain. But he couldn’t find it. Mom cried, she was so upset, but Dad was quick to console her. The ring wasn’t important, he told her. Only the love they had for each other. Mom felt better, but even in her later years, she’d still ask if we’d ever found it.

The morning of the party, I woke up early because I still had some decorating to do at the community center. Dad was already awake. “Happy Birthday!” I said. He smiled, but still seemed down. He’ll feel better once the party starts, I thought.

I looked around for something to stash my shoes in, and grabbed an old cloth sack from a closet that Mom had used to store plastic bags. It was shaped like a bunny rabbit. Dad eyed it. “I meant to throw that old thing out a week ago,” he said.

I set it in my palm. That’s funny, I thought. There’s something in there. I reached in. “Dad, look!” I shouted, holding up my find—Mom’s ring.

Dad lit up. He took the ring and held it tight. He beamed all through the party. “Mom’s here with us,” he said.

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