Going to my grandsons’ track meet tonight so here are my words from a last year’s blog —

Went shopping with my youngest sister-in-law yesterday. Our first stop was at Wares Jewelry where I had to have my wedding rings cut off. I had shut the door of a camper on my hand Sunday and the rings took the brunt of the blow. The diamond was knocked out of my mother’s engagement ring. My fingers hurt so bad it was several minutes before I noticed the diamond was missing. I was trying to be brave and trying to tell myself it would be okay if we didn’t find the diamond. My family would only remember me as the idiot who lost the family heirloom. No family bride would wear it again!

Stew and I hopelessly searched the ground in front of the camper door. I just gave up looking, trying not to cry. My niece Ann said, “Sit down! You are not going home without the diamond.” Bless her heart, she found the diamond in the camper on the rug by the door. I was so relieved. We put the diamond in a ziplock bag. I just prayed I wouldn’t lose it before I could get home and have the ring repaired. The distorted prongs could have filleted a fish. Couldn’t get the ring off my swollen finger so I put a bandaid over the prongs.

The sweet young woman at Wares Jewelry cut mama’s engagement ring off my finger and proceeded to tell me I really needed to have my wedding band removed also. I started crying because I had never taken my wedding ring off since Chief put it on my finger 40 years ago. My finger has a waist now from where the rings sat. My ring was a seven…said I’d probably need a 8.5 or 9 but I’d have to wait till the swelling goes down to properly measure. Said you should take off your wedding rings off at night, never sleep with them on. If I did that, course I’d have to be able to remove them, and, I know without a doubt, I’d never remember where I had put them!

My grandmother’s ring on my other hand is probably too little, too! Managed to painfully twist it off so the jeweler could clean it. Held my hand under the table as I wrenched it off. Took a hunk of meat off my knuckle! My parents took me to Bromberg’s jewelry store in Birmingham, to have the ring sized when I inherited it. Mama embarrassed me when she told the jeweler, after he measured my finger, to make the band a half-size smaller so I couldn’t take it off in college and lose it! Don’t worry…it worked. When I pass it down to my granddaughter, if I can ever get it off my finger again, I’ll probably do the same thing for her.

My sister-in-laws’ rings were sparkling on her perfectly manicured fingers but she had hers cleaned, too! Her rings just slide off her fingers like her fingers are greased! After the rings were put away we shopped around for some diamond bobbles for my baby brother to buy her. “Your brother hasn’t been here in a while,” she said, as she walked around and looked at the jewelry displays. We left the jewelers and decided to go shoe shopping. Now remember, I’m old and dowdy and arthritic. She’s pretty and slender and fashionable AND takes her rings off at night when she goes to bed!

She helps me with the high shoe boxes, gives fashion advice, encourages me to buy two pair! I’m sitting on a stool in the shoe store aisle, trying to pick up my leg high enough to put my foot in a shoe, and I look over to see her standing like a flamingo on one leg trying on a shoe. She’s not even holding on to the shelves! I’m amazed! I couldn’t even watch her without holding onto the shelf! She buys two pair, too.

On the way to the car, I’m trying to get the courage to suggest we get a Dairy Queen Blizzard for the ride home. Soon as we buckle up she says, “When is the last time you went clothes shopping?” Damn, I think, there goes the Blizzard! I am in trouble now. “Can’t remember,” I say. “I love grocery shopping more!” I know she thought, “Yeah, I can tell!” Then I just blurt out, “Let’s get a Dairy Queen Blizzard! I’ll pay!”

She wants one, too! And she pays! Sisters-in-laws are so much fun!

“My sister-in-laws are like my sisters, gifted to me by my brothers.” —Unknown