I took a writing workshop at Green Gulch Zen Center in Muir Beach a few weekends ago. It was very humbling. I did use the time to finally commit this particular story to paper.
The prompt: “Something in me longs to leave a legacy”
The subject matter: The Ring
I have this intricate gold and garnet ring from Prague, the acquisition of which is a story of perseverance and valor.
Not really, but it felt that way at the time.
The ring was symbolic and also quite material gift to myself when I knew that my last relationship was falling apart. When I realized with utter clarity and despondency that, were I ever to want a ring, I would be buying it for myself.
And similarly, if I ever want a family, I’ll need to be resourceful and inventive.
I would like to have a daughter to leave this ring to.
I’d like to tell her the story of my trip to the Czech Republic and my search for the tiny jewelry store called Granat Turnov, down a cobblestone alley off the Old Town Square. How I tried this ring on my finger and fell instantly in love with it. How my quickly-falling-out-of-favor boyfriend and traveling companion talked me out of buying the ring (which, at $75, was an unheard-of steal in these days of gold inflation). How he didn’t either offer to buy me the ring, despite the heartbreak and disappointment so clearly visible on my face. And how we then sat at a café in silence and had an afternoon drink, miles of communication gap, resentment and waning love between us.
And how we broke up as soon as we got back to the States.
And how I then set about tracking down and purchasing the ring after all, through an elaborate sequence of steps involving the internet, a Czech translator, dollar-to-forent conversion calculators, a bank wire transfer, the postal service, and weeks of trust and patience.
I’d like to tell that story to my daughter one day. But for that, I’d need the boyfriend back. And frankly, I get along better with the ring.
