Heirlooms

[pegkerr]

Today, while sorting through my jewelry box to find an necklace to wear with my new jacket, I ran across a ring that I've had since the age of twelve or so. It was given to me by my step-grandmother, my grandfather's second wife, for my birthday. She asked me to not tell my grandfather that she had given it to me, because he had given it to her, but she wanted me to have it because it had originally been given to my grandmother, his first wife. I was truly touched by her consideration in passing it on to me, so that it could remain in the family.

I absent-mindedly put it on my finger while I continued to dig for the necklace and only realized I had done so while driving to work. Now I am absurdly conscious of it. It is a star sapphire, set in white gold (I think???) surrounded by six small diamond chips. I haven't put it on in ages, because it is really too big for my finger and slips around.

Tell me about an heirloom you have received from someone you loved. What is the story behind it? How did you receive it? How do you use it? Was it given to you personally or bequeathed to you after death? What does it remind you of?

Comments

[sociofemme.livejournal.com]

I have my maternal grandmother's wedding ring. It's a very simple silver band with five diamond chips across the top, and when she gave it to me, I was thirteen, and it fit me perfectly (still does, though I don't wear it anymore). I wore it on my right hand for six years straight, and intermittently after that.

I put it away for a visit when her dementia was particularly bad--she thought I'd stolen it from her--and never put it on again. But I still love the memory of the two of us sifting through her jewelry box--her letting me try things on, and her finally choosing that ring as perfect for me. I can practically smell her sitting room now.

[madlori.livejournal.com]

I have my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother's wedding ring. It's been passed down to the women in my family for many years. Traditionally women got it when they got married, and then passed it to the next woman to get married, but I think my family gave up on me because my aunt gave it to me on my 30th birthday. She'd affixed it to a laminated card where she'd written down the whole provenance and who had possessed the ring. It's too small for me to wear, but it's tied to the card with a ribbon. The thing is, I'm paranoid about it. I keep it in a safe place but one where I don't see it frequently, you know? so about every six months I have this panic where I go "OMG, where's Grandma Laab's ring?" And I have to go check for it. It's not a very extravagant ring, just an engraved band, but the historical significance to me is huge.

I also have a set of Irish silk damask table linens, tablecloth and napkins, that my great-great-great-grandmother made in the mid-1800's. They're beautiful. I took them to Antiques Roadshow once.

[liadan-m.livejournal.com]

I talked about this in my journal last week...

My father's side of the family has some weird history. For a long time, my grandfather flew, and my grandmother, dad, aunt, and uncle lived in Levittown during the school year and on the farm in the summer. They lived in the tool shed on the south 80 (which had been converted into an apartment-type thing) rather than the house. I have no idea why...probably because my grandfather thought it was a good idea. After they moved to Indiana perminantly, they left everything out in the tool shed as it was, and started living in the house on the west 80. Dad and siblings went off to college and left home, and Grandmother moved into the house in town. Somehow, the dressers in the houses had never gotten moved or cleaned out (or anything else, either), and my grandfather filled all available spaces with stuff. It has been the work of more than ten years, cleaning out the houses and the farms of trash and junk. I have all of my grandmother's good jewelry because of this (silver, all, and a story for another time). Dad still finds stashes of it, and evidentially when he was up at the farm the last time, he finally reached to my aunt Elane's dresser from high school. My aunt was 6 ft, and not a small woman, but she evidentially was built like I am. Her rings barely fit on my finger. But I have the Thai star ruby and Egyptian puzzle ring that Grandpa brought back for her. And in looking for jewelry to wear this weekend I found the other cross she'd left me. The chain is tiny, the cross smaller than my thumbnail, and it rests in the hollow of my throat. I didn't know if I was going to be able to get it around my neck. Dad says that it sits on me where it sat on her.

[huladavid.livejournal.com]

I've actually got a fair number of family heirlooms; most of the family copies of the "Little House" books (my sister got the first couple, I got the next few, my brother the last editions), my great-grandfather's Masonic sword, but one Christmas my mother gave me a lamp that my father had made (he did a lot of woodworking & taught industrial arts). It was just nice to have something he'd made (at the time I didn't have anything that he'd built, & since then I've gotten a small desk he built when the family lived in southern Minnesota.)

Also, I'm supposed to get the family dining table that my (great?) grandmother bought second hand, but frankly I don't have room for it. It's up at my sister's place in Winnipeg.

[malinaldarose.livejournal.com]

All the girls on my mother's side of the family were in Camp Fire, though I was -- so far -- the last. When the Camp Fire Girls organization was first started, there were nifty little doo-dads for each rank, including a silver ring for the Wood Gatherer rank with the Wood Gatherer insignia -- a stylized bundle of sticks and three (as I recall) dots on each side.

My grandmother's aunt gave me her Wood Gatherer's ring when I was twelve or so, and I wore it quite proudly for years, even after I passed that rank, because it was a gift from Aunt Ophelia. Sadly, some years later, the shank split down the middle, probably along a sizing line. I never had it repaired -- it wouldn't fit me any more, anyway, but I always think of Aunt Ophelia whenever I see it in my jewelry box.

(Nellie, in my icon, was Aunt Ophelia's mother.)

[loup_noir]

I have my grandmother's wedding ring remade twice. I used to wear it a lot, but lost the habit.

This probably won't sound as profound or as dear as jewelery, but I've my mother-in-law's sewing machine, a Bernina 830, the last of the completely metal-geared, non-computerized machines. She died a few months after we got married. I never got to know her, but I know her machine and we work together on it.

[cakmpls.livejournal.com]

I have a number of things, all valuable only in family significance. I can't say that I treasure one or the other more, but perhaps the most interesting to other people are the wooden objects my great-grandfather Charles Schmidt (my father's mother's father) made. After he retired from farming and his son and son-in-law took over, he made a lathe, and then he made these objects on it, from wood he cut and cured on his farm. One is a button box (actually I think he made these for another purpose, something to do with smoking paraphernalia, but the women in the family appropriated these as button boxes) with a perfectly fitting cover. In our living room, I have four wooden "cups" that will go to my kids; each has a freely turning ring around its stem, all cut from a single piece of wood. I also have two similar cups without rings. Some of these have his name, and/or "Alta, Ia.," and/or the type of wood, noted in ink, in his hand, on the bottom.

[rachet.livejournal.com]

My mother's side of the family was very poor. But my grandfather was able to save some of the money he earned farming to buy his girlfriend (my grandmother-to-be) an actual wedding ring when it was extremely rare to get a wedding ring in those times and in that area of southern Ohio.

Grandpa died months after I was born so I never met him. Mamaw remarried but always wore that wedding ring on her other hand. My step-grandfather never minded.

As I was growing up, Mamaw told me at least once a month "Now one day, I want this ring to be yours".

When Mamaw died 7 years ago of cancer (on her birthday, January 8), I was so overcome by sadness that I completely forgot about the ring.

Until...

Her extremely spoiled sister said "I should get Avanelle's first wedding band. You know she would want me to have it. If it wasn't for me, she would have never married Charles."

And she said this at the visitation. In front of several people. Including myself and my mother, who looked like she wanted to throw her out by her hair.

I looked at my mom and said loudly "Give it to her. Even though everyone in this room knows the story is crap."

My aunt stared at me like she wanted to slap me. But I didn't care. I honestly didn't. My grandmother was dead. She was never going to hold her great-grandchildren, she was never going to make oatmeal cookies again, she would never again insist I take several two ton peonies from the backyard when they were in bloom to "brighten your desk". A ring that was promised to me was the last thing on my mind. And if it was the only thing on her sister's mind, so be it. She deserved the ring.

After the viewing was over, Mr. Collins, our dear friend and the town funeral director, went behind the curtain to close the casket for the actual funeral.

As we were leaving the cemetery, Mr Collins came up to me, took my hand and closed my fingers over my grandmother's ring.

"The last time I saw her and she was signing papers she told me that before the casket closed to make sure you got this."

It's one of the dearest things I own.

[tassie-gal.livejournal.com]

That is the most beautiful story......

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

My great-grandmother's family wanted to give her a gift for her confirmation, but they had very little money. They found a moss agate on the family land, though -- don't know if it was native or had been dropped there -- and had it cut to go in a ring. Gran gave it to Mom for her confirmation, and Mom gave it to me. It's too big on my middle finger -- fits just right on my thumb, but I can't wear thumb rings without going completely bazoo, so I let it rattle around on my right middle finger sometimes, carefully. The stone is nearly as long as the joint of my finger. When I was in high school, one of my friends couldn't believe I would wear something so "ugly."

[snippy]

I am wearing what will be an heirloom when I die: a gold signet ring with my initials. My sister, brother, children, niece, and nephews have them as well. When my mother was dying she ordered them for us all; they were finished a week after her death.

[carbonel]

When I was graduating from eighth grade, my mother gave me a ring I'd never seen before. It's a stylized flower in white gold, with one central diamond (not brilliant-cut -- something more old-fashioned than that, but I can't recall the term), two bagets, and four small diamonds. The central diamond came from my great-grandmother's engagement ring, and the other diamonds were added later.

I love it both for its looks and because it's a family heirloom. For years I didn't think I'd have anyone to pass it on to, at least in the next generation, because I only had nephews, but my other brother had a daughter, so it'll go to her. Probably not as early as my mother gave it to me, though, since I don't have a wedding band to replace it, and I wear it all the time.

I also have an opal bracelet and earrings from my paternal grandmother. Her favorite stone was opal (as is mine), and it's my birthstone. My maternal grandmother gave me an opal-and-diamond ring about a year before she died, though I need to get it resized before I can wear it.

[aome.livejournal.com]

Three things dear to me only in terms of my feelings (not in material value) are from my "Grandma Bee" (d. 2001) - who wasn't actually any family relation at all. She and my mother met when I was five or six months old, and, living closer than any of my real grandparents, became my "grandmother", as she became one of my mother's dearest friends. It worked in reverse, too - her own granddaughters were 1000 miles away, so she enjoyed having a "grandchild" nearby.

Anyway, when her health became frail enough that she had to move in with her son, and sell her home, she went ahead and divvied her stuff up, and let us request any special items. I asked for one of her plates, a magnet that was always on her fridge, and her big Snoopy. Plate: reminds me of all the wonderful meals we shared at her home. I use it as a small cake plate or for other special treats, when I want to feel like she's being included in a family event. Magnet: "God, give me patience - right now!" which makes me smile. Snoopy: He sat in her bedroom on a rocking chair, and I always LOVED to snuggle him when I was a child. Now he's my Snoopy.

I received a double-strand of pearls from my maternal great-grandmother (through my grandparents) on my 18th birthday, and wore them for my wedding, but they've otherwise mostly spent time in our safe-deposit box. I keep thinking I should wear them more to keep the lustre and to appreciate their beauty, but who wears pearls these days? Especially with jeans and t-shirts?

I would like to receive an emerald ring my grandmother wears on her pinky when she dresses up - not for its material value, but because I learned last fall that it had been my great-grandfather's gift to my great-grandmother upon the birth of their son (my grandpa). When my grandpa was ready to propose to my grandma, he asked for - and got - the ring to use as my grandmother's engagement ring. So, a lot of family history there. My grandparents are still alive, of course, and I don't know who else might prefer to claim it, but I do hope someone in the family keeps it when the time comes.

[avengangle.livejournal.com]

My great-grandfather was a carpenter and he made a crib that was my grandmother's, and then all of her children's (my mom and her 3 sibs), and then mine, as I was the first grandkid. It's sitting in the attic, I think, along with a wooden toybox with the same provenance. They'll be mine if/when I have kids. It's pretty awesome, having big wooden heirlooms like that. Not that I would appreciate jewelry any less, but, you know . . . a crib. A toybox.

Of course, lord knows they'll be a pain to move.

[phoenixsong]

I have an antique bracelet -- a few Google searches tell me it's a hinged bangle (similar to this). On the inside, on side is engraved with a name and a date in 1894 or 1891 (it's a little hard to read) -- presumably a distant relative. Some day I should research that name, or ask my parents about it -- I may have heard who it was years ago, but I just don't remmeber. On the other side my name is engraved with the date of my First Communion.

When his grandfather died, my fiancé's grandmother promised him his grandfather's wedding ring when he got married. That's coming up in the spring of 2008. s:)

[jeanineers.livejournal.com]

Two things, both rings, from the same grandmother.

My grandmother and I were both born in February and she left me her amethyst jewelry. There are a number of items, but a couple stand out. She had a pair of earrings that were really too heavy for me to wear. My mother had rings made for my brother and me. They are styled so that anyone can tell that they are meant to be a pair. Mine differs only in a small filigree detail on each side of the stone.

The second ring is a very large Alexandrite . The stone is set in platinum surrounded by a ring of diamonds. My very tiny grandmother wore it every day. It changes from the teal to a red-tinged purple depending on the light source. It's a very large ring and for years it stayed in a safe deposit box at the bank because I didn't have the gumption to wear a ring that looks like something old ladies wear to cocktail parties. I wear it often now. Just about any time I know that I won't have to take it off for any reason during the course of the day. I'd hate to lose such an unusual and special gift.

[castiron.livejournal.com]

I have several items that I inherited from my maternal grandmother, items given to me by my mom after Grandma's death. An amethyst from her engagement ring (there were two; my parents set each in a ring, one for me and one for my sister), a doily she made, a ceramic cat, an unmade afghan kit (I crocheted it as a present for my mother a couple years later).

But my very favorite thing that Grandma ever gave me was the knitting lessons; I learned the fine points myself, but she got me started. I still think of her every time I knit a sweater or shawl or sock.

[franticgoddess.livejournal.com]

As far as jewelry goes in my family, I don't have much at the moment. My mother and aunts and I all share jewelry regularly (with both myself and my cousin Annie, since we are now adults and not too far apart in age). There are a few things though.

My cousin Christopher and I each have one of my grandfather's shirts. My grandpa was a very tall, very thin man and so I can fit into them at 20 and my cousin can because he is a 15 year old boy. They were custom made for grandpa, and are beautiful shirts. They have his initials embroidered into them, and are just generally nice to have.

I already have some of my mother's jewelry. I wear a pair of coral cameo earrings almost daily. They were a gift from one of her boyfriends, who she dated for 6 years but then did not marry. I also have her earrings that she wore to prom when she was 15.

[brithistorian.livejournal.com]

I have my grandfather's pocketknife. A couple of years ago at Christmas I mentioned that I wanted a pocketknife like he had had (it's almost exactly like the one at http://www.buckknives.com/catalog/detail/195/237 except that it has both of the small blades attached at the opposite end of the handle from where the large blade is attached). My grandmother went through the things she had saved after my grandfather passed away, found his pocketknife, and gave it to me. I carry it with me every day and think of him every time I use it. I particularly remember at Christmastime he would take it out, open up the smallest blade, and meticulously cut each piece of tape, so as to be able to open his presents without tearing the wrapping paper.

[tassie-gal.livejournal.com]

Okay - its not an heirloom as such, but they have alot of sentimental value to me. My "adopted" grandfather spoilt me rotten. It was acknowledge by all and sundry that I could just look at something wistfully in a window and he would buy it for me.
For my 18th birthday he had a gold name badge made for me, engraved with my name and a flower design. It was lost in the post - we found it later at the dead letter office but thats another story. When he came over a couple of months after my birthday he presented me with a ring box and the comment "since the other one went missing I bought this to substitute". Inside was a square emerald and diamond chip ring mounted in a art deco type setting. His mate had taken him to an estate sale, he saw it and decided I needed it.I love it to pieces and wear it semi regularly with the emerald and diamond ear rings that he bought to go with it. It reminds me of the fact that I have had a wonderful grandfatherly relationship with someone, and the fact the relationship with my own grandfather is fraught with difficulty is not a big worry.
(I think I am going to take this comment into my own LJ now and ponder on it.)