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#TBT: Panic and White Knuckles, v.2.0

Posted on December 2, 2021December 2, 2021

This was first posted December 3, 2010.

I don’t know if I should title this entry, “Panic” or “White Knuckles”.   After falling asleep while trying to watch the National Finals Rodeo… I awoke to a dog’s snuffling nose at my bedside.   Grabbing ten more seconds of warmth, I tossed back the covers and glanced at my windows.  
No rim of frost.  Good.

 That meant it was a “warm” winter day… 20 or 30.  Ten and below decorated the windows on those “cold” winter days.   I needed to be off to Worland, grabbing the Festival of Trees wreath from the Ten Sleep library.  

Coffee-ed.  

Showered.  

Dressed.  

Packed.  

A last minute glance in the mirror, and I reached for some different earrings.  And my mom’s diamond ring.   While I love jewelry, I tend to stick to some basic ones around here.  Not overly expensive, but tending to match the blues and greens I find myself wearing these days.  

I switched to silver hoop style earrings of my mom’s.  And I reached for the ring.   I grabbed a gold hoop earring instead.   Laughing at my poor eyesight, I squinted into the box where I ALWAYS store the ring.

  The ring.  

A band of gold nuggets… bought when we lived in Alaska.  I remember the nuggets originally being rough and uneven, now worn smooth from years and years and years of wear.  Welded to it, a thin simple band, purchased years later, holding a one carat diamond that sparkled over the nuggets.  

I remember the phone call from my mom.  

“You’ll NEVER guess what your dad just bought me.”  

Now a junior in college, I had a pretty good idea of what my dad considered impractical.

“Well,”  I wrinkled my brow, “It’s either a brand new car or a diamond.  I’m guessing… a car?”

  “You’d be wrong!”  I could hear the smile in her voice.  The sincere LOVE that she had for my dad.  

“Really?  A DIAMOND?”  

“YES!”  

“So, like, is it big?”

  “Oh, my.  Very.  Probably too big.”  

Then a sigh, that told me more volumes about their Love.  

That ring.  

The ring that was no longer in my jewelry box.   A twinge built in my gut, but I forced it down.  It had to be there.  I’m so paranoid about losing it, I wear it only to town and take it off when I walk back in my own door.  I check it constantly in town to make sure it’s there on my finger.  

I grabbed the box, which holds my favorites and dumped it on the bed.   Earring.   Earring.   Necklace.   Necklace.   Bracelet.   No ring.

  “Oh, God.”   Panic.   I looked again.   “Oh, God.”  

That was it.  I was in full panic.  I looked on my desk and moved items.  Tossed papers.  Moved a pile of junk.  I found an earring.  What?  

Then I noticed an earring on the floor.  Had someone knocked my box off my desk?  I slid my chair away from my desk and saw another earring.  Then to the left… a glimpse of gold.  

With tears streaming down my face, I reached and grabbed what my heart had feared was lost.  I know it’s just a ring.  It’s not Mom… it’s not Daddy… it’s just metal and a memory, but it is a gold and diamond link to my past.

  I thanked God and slid it onto my finger and wiped my face and headed into town.  

The roads were NASTY.   Since the guys kidnapped my Durango, I had to use Daniel’s Firebird.   Not really an all weather vehicle.   I drove 45 mph.  In snow and ice and slush.  And I hoped I hadn’t used up all my “Oh, God”s for one day!

 I arrived, white knuckled, and cranked down the level of tunes… the Casey Donahew Band had tried their best to distract my worries.   But I was safe, and with a sparkling ring on my finger, I set up our wreath display.  

wre

 

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3 thoughts on “#TBT: Panic and White Knuckles, v.2.0”

  1. Joan Wood says:
    December 3, 2021 at 12:40 PM

    A heart stopping few moments for sure. What a relief to find it.

    Love the wreath.

    Reply
  2. Joanne says:
    December 3, 2021 at 10:16 AM

    I can understand your panic. My Granddad made my Mom’s engagement ring for my Dad. I never take it off when out as I once lost a ring when I took it off to wash my hands in the restroom. A hard lesson was learnt that day.

    Reply
  3. Kay Artley says:
    December 3, 2021 at 8:06 AM

    You lived in Alaska ? That must have been an adventure.

    Reply

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Carol, Wyoming rancher

Since 2008, I’ve kept this photographic journal of life on a Wyoming ranch.  I share ranch work, my family, crafts and DIY, my English Shepherd, Bravo, and a love for this land.  Enjoy this red dirt country!

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