That ruler hitting his chin!! Oh you have such a gift for painting with your words, Nan. I was so happy that you were able to give that ring to Poppa and so sad that no one will fess up so you can have that ring back. Hoping you’ll just “find” it again one day and be reunited 🤞🏼
Oh the drama!!!!! This reminds me of Cluedo (did you ever play that game?) … could it be Miss Scarlett or was it Colonel Mustard? I always doubted Professor Plum for some reason even though Mrs. Peacock was the mastermind in most games.
I spoke to a cousin of mine tonight for the first time in I can't tell you how many years...the son of the aunt I think swiped it....we came up with an entirely new theory. He suggested that my grandfather's 2nd wife may have been the culprit...but most of it's conjecture, and maybe one day I'll write it, but it may have to be fiction. I met her a couple of times, he married her a few years before he died and they ended up divorcing before he did. My cousin thinks she may have made off with the jewels! SO much intrigue! xo
The best, most telling line: "It was a gift from the bank." This so subtly underlines the naivete of a seven-year-old. Reading it made me stop and imagine you at that age. Love the story! XXX
Such a sweet story, Nan. I'm glad it wasn't claimed, although I'm sure someone was sorry they lost it.
I love this bit of grown-up perspective, too: "'Always keep your head down,' that was my motto, because you never know what you might find. When I finally looked up, in my adult years, I was amazed at the things I’d been missing all those years. But the soles of my shoes stayed clean from all the down-gazing I did."
I've got the person who lost the ring stuck in my mind, and how did it get under the heavy display thingy ? (I'm guessing it was heavy like everything in a hardware store.) It doesn't seem like something like that could slip off a finger. Could it have been stolen, by someone who knew the person, like a relative, a kid, a cleaning person and the thief got scared and didn't know where to hide it, and lived in a constricted world with few hiding places.
I'm finding out that it may have been Step-grandmother Sticky Fingers. I have a funny feeling I'll never get the answer to my question. Anyone who might have the answer is dead. xo
Great story. I was so relieved that the store guy was kind to you. I’ll tell you sometime about my stealing stage (I consider what you did a large step down from stealing—you found something that was lost and at age 7 it didn’t occur to you that someone might be looking for it!) when I was 6 and 7 years old. So moving that your Poppa wore that ring for a long, long time.
Chatting with my cousin right now. He suspects his mother swiped it, too. I've put him on the job. I have a feeling that it's long gone. I want to hear all about your stealing stage! xo
Oh the adventures of little Nan. I love that you wanted to give it to your Poppa so badly that you didn't consider the person who lost it. That's the sweetest little kid logic. Finders keepers for the win :)
It really was that. I was so in my excitement that it didn't even occur to me. Which was unusual, I was pretty thoughtful (read as codependent). It was definitely a pure love moment. And my grandfather wasn't at all cuddly or easy to love. He was a gruff one. Made the gift all the sweeter. He never expected anyone to do anything nice for him, I'm pretty sure. He was a good guy.
Nan, thanks for tagging me in Notes as I truly enjoyed this sweet story. Right from the beginning, your phrasing made me smile, the way you described your parents "engaged in parallel play." And that little trip to the hardware store where you discovered the ring. I think there wasn't a selfish thing about this for a 7 year old because you wanted to give it to your Poppa (even though later your father said he felt hurt he didn't get it:-) I was so prepared for you not to get it back that when you did it was a wonderful surprise. And this story reminds me of the time that I was in the five-and-dime (remember those?) on an errand for my mother with my little change purse.
But sneaky Amy, also around age 7, was determined to have a perfect set of 64 Crayola crayons. I was missing my favorite, periwinkle, because it had broken. I used to play with these crayons, lining them up, organizing them in different color groups, the way some girls play with dolls. So on that errand, I first went down the toy aisle and stealthily snuck a periwinkle out of the 64 Crayola box on the shelf. I tucked it in my change purse, purchased what my mother wanted, and biked home. When my mother asked after her change and I opened the purse, there was my crayon. "Where did that come from?" she asked me, a serious look on her face (she knew of my Crayola obssession).
Just like George Washington, I couldn't tell a lie and confessed to my crime. "Well then, young lady, you're going to get back on your bike, go up to Mr. {Whose Name I've Forgotten], explain what you did and return it to him." I nodded, gulping back tears. Of course I cried all the way back to the store, confessed to the store owner, who looked at me very kindly and thanked me for my honesty (which of course I didn;t feel I deserved) and I went home, still missing my precious periwinkle crayon. I'd like to say this ended my shoplifting career but in a high school sorority I joined (horrible mistake), one of our "hazing" activities was to shoplift and so I did. Sigh. However I am proud to report that was the end of my criminal career.
Thanks, Nan, for prompting me to think about that memory!
Wow. What a story. I gasped out loud when I read the part about you lifting that crayon. There's so much innocence buried under your "crime." And oh the humbling experience of admitting it. I can just see you. And btw, I had the same relationship with crayons. I was not a doll girl at all. They creeped me out.
What did you lift in high school? I had no idea there were sororities before college. What a lousy idea. But then, I wasn't that girl either. I think they're a lousy idea all the way around. Hazing. Oy, vey. xo
I think it was lipstick and compacts from the pharmacy. Ah I felt so dirty afterwards. I was weak, wanting to be one of the ‘cool girls,’ but I didn’t even make it through the full hazing as it became too demeaning, even for a wannabe popular girl like me. I came to my senses eventually and befriended the smart, nerdy kids: my people.
Way to go, girlfriend. "I used to play with these crayons, lining them up, organizing them in different color groups, the way some girls play with dolls." I think that qualifies you as early nerd! My people. xo
I kept trying to predict how this story would end. The actual ending (save for the ring's disappearance) was much better! What a fun read, Nan, and so artfully told. I could picture your seven-year-old self wishing with all your might!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Jamie. It's been a tough couple of weeks, and then the stomach flu on top of it. Need a little joy right now. I love hearing about other people's childhood memories. It's very sweet. xo
When I was seven years old, my mom took me to the religious bookstore she frequently visited. I bought a book with my allowance. When I got to the car and looked in the bag, I found a twenty dollar bill. I pulled it out and showed it to her.
“We’ll bring it back in,” she said. The woman who owned the store looked at me with an astonished expression.
“Thank you,” she said. “We keep our money in a paper bag, in case someone tries to rob us.”
For years, my mother praised me for being honest. I was puzzled, because what would a seven-year-old do with a twenty dollar bill? But it felt good to be an honest person. I had opportunities to shoplift or steal after that, but didn’t. I do remember finding a broken earring in the street. I kept it, because there was no one to return it to. Looking back, I think it may have been valuable, an opal surrounded by diamonds. But it was pretty. If I’d found it on the floor in a store, I don’t know what I would have done.
Thanks for the sweet story. I have both of my grandmothers’ wedding rings. One was given to me by a cousin, the other by my mom. But I know exactly what you mean about greed. As in: a certain family member absconded with most of the furniture, and a ‘67 Mustang. Pretty brazen.
I’m really happy that your Poppa got the ring, and that it gave you both so much joy. Thanks for a happy story on an otherwise gloomy day. xoxo
Thanks, Mary. Yes, life feels really dark right now, and it's not that I don't want to acknowledge...I just can't and won't get sucked under. What a mess. And yay for your honesty. As for the ring? Who knows....maybe someone will fess up. It has nothing whatsoever to do with material value. It's completely sentimental for me. I wear one of my grandmother's wedding band every day. And I have a beautiful ring that was made from a stickpin that belonged to my great-grandfather. I'm not such a "stuff" person, but the emotional connection that can be made to a thing is very powerful for me.
That ruler hitting his chin!! Oh you have such a gift for painting with your words, Nan. I was so happy that you were able to give that ring to Poppa and so sad that no one will fess up so you can have that ring back. Hoping you’ll just “find” it again one day and be reunited 🤞🏼
Oh the drama!!!!! This reminds me of Cluedo (did you ever play that game?) … could it be Miss Scarlett or was it Colonel Mustard? I always doubted Professor Plum for some reason even though Mrs. Peacock was the mastermind in most games.
Never played Clue, no. Yes to the drama, for sure. I was stunned by some of the family stories I heard tonight.
Oh I bet! I hope you go to bed with some happy anecdotes, though 😍
I spoke to a cousin of mine tonight for the first time in I can't tell you how many years...the son of the aunt I think swiped it....we came up with an entirely new theory. He suggested that my grandfather's 2nd wife may have been the culprit...but most of it's conjecture, and maybe one day I'll write it, but it may have to be fiction. I met her a couple of times, he married her a few years before he died and they ended up divorcing before he did. My cousin thinks she may have made off with the jewels! SO much intrigue! xo
The best, most telling line: "It was a gift from the bank." This so subtly underlines the naivete of a seven-year-old. Reading it made me stop and imagine you at that age. Love the story! XXX
Thanks, Ann! I remember when I opened my first bank account. I picked the handheld really cool transistor radio. I can still visualize it!
Such a sweet story, Nan. I'm glad it wasn't claimed, although I'm sure someone was sorry they lost it.
I love this bit of grown-up perspective, too: "'Always keep your head down,' that was my motto, because you never know what you might find. When I finally looked up, in my adult years, I was amazed at the things I’d been missing all those years. But the soles of my shoes stayed clean from all the down-gazing I did."
I don't keep my head down anymore, even though right now it feels the most tempting to do so. xo.
I've got the person who lost the ring stuck in my mind, and how did it get under the heavy display thingy ? (I'm guessing it was heavy like everything in a hardware store.) It doesn't seem like something like that could slip off a finger. Could it have been stolen, by someone who knew the person, like a relative, a kid, a cleaning person and the thief got scared and didn't know where to hide it, and lived in a constricted world with few hiding places.
Such a cute story, Nan. I have quite a sparkle fetish, I would have been crushed to have to give back "my precious" ;)
Oh, Mr. Troy, are you blingy? You're the best!
LOVE my sparkly sparkles - but I don’t wear them, I just gloat over them ;)
Great story, Eagle Eye! I’m glad you got to give the ring to your grandfather, and that he loved it so much. And boo to Aunt Sticky Fingers.
I'm finding out that it may have been Step-grandmother Sticky Fingers. I have a funny feeling I'll never get the answer to my question. Anyone who might have the answer is dead. xo
Such a sweet story from 7 yr old little you! I'm so glad you got to give it to poppa!! And I truly hope it makes it's way back to you some day <3 Xoxo
We'll see. I have my doubts. It's nice to keep the memory alive by sharing it here. xo
Great story. I was so relieved that the store guy was kind to you. I’ll tell you sometime about my stealing stage (I consider what you did a large step down from stealing—you found something that was lost and at age 7 it didn’t occur to you that someone might be looking for it!) when I was 6 and 7 years old. So moving that your Poppa wore that ring for a long, long time.
Chatting with my cousin right now. He suspects his mother swiped it, too. I've put him on the job. I have a feeling that it's long gone. I want to hear all about your stealing stage! xo
I loved listening to the story Nan. And I’m happy you got to keep the ring after doing the next right thing!! 😉
Oh the adventures of little Nan. I love that you wanted to give it to your Poppa so badly that you didn't consider the person who lost it. That's the sweetest little kid logic. Finders keepers for the win :)
It really was that. I was so in my excitement that it didn't even occur to me. Which was unusual, I was pretty thoughtful (read as codependent). It was definitely a pure love moment. And my grandfather wasn't at all cuddly or easy to love. He was a gruff one. Made the gift all the sweeter. He never expected anyone to do anything nice for him, I'm pretty sure. He was a good guy.
Nan, thanks for tagging me in Notes as I truly enjoyed this sweet story. Right from the beginning, your phrasing made me smile, the way you described your parents "engaged in parallel play." And that little trip to the hardware store where you discovered the ring. I think there wasn't a selfish thing about this for a 7 year old because you wanted to give it to your Poppa (even though later your father said he felt hurt he didn't get it:-) I was so prepared for you not to get it back that when you did it was a wonderful surprise. And this story reminds me of the time that I was in the five-and-dime (remember those?) on an errand for my mother with my little change purse.
But sneaky Amy, also around age 7, was determined to have a perfect set of 64 Crayola crayons. I was missing my favorite, periwinkle, because it had broken. I used to play with these crayons, lining them up, organizing them in different color groups, the way some girls play with dolls. So on that errand, I first went down the toy aisle and stealthily snuck a periwinkle out of the 64 Crayola box on the shelf. I tucked it in my change purse, purchased what my mother wanted, and biked home. When my mother asked after her change and I opened the purse, there was my crayon. "Where did that come from?" she asked me, a serious look on her face (she knew of my Crayola obssession).
Just like George Washington, I couldn't tell a lie and confessed to my crime. "Well then, young lady, you're going to get back on your bike, go up to Mr. {Whose Name I've Forgotten], explain what you did and return it to him." I nodded, gulping back tears. Of course I cried all the way back to the store, confessed to the store owner, who looked at me very kindly and thanked me for my honesty (which of course I didn;t feel I deserved) and I went home, still missing my precious periwinkle crayon. I'd like to say this ended my shoplifting career but in a high school sorority I joined (horrible mistake), one of our "hazing" activities was to shoplift and so I did. Sigh. However I am proud to report that was the end of my criminal career.
Thanks, Nan, for prompting me to think about that memory!
Wow. What a story. I gasped out loud when I read the part about you lifting that crayon. There's so much innocence buried under your "crime." And oh the humbling experience of admitting it. I can just see you. And btw, I had the same relationship with crayons. I was not a doll girl at all. They creeped me out.
What did you lift in high school? I had no idea there were sororities before college. What a lousy idea. But then, I wasn't that girl either. I think they're a lousy idea all the way around. Hazing. Oy, vey. xo
I think it was lipstick and compacts from the pharmacy. Ah I felt so dirty afterwards. I was weak, wanting to be one of the ‘cool girls,’ but I didn’t even make it through the full hazing as it became too demeaning, even for a wannabe popular girl like me. I came to my senses eventually and befriended the smart, nerdy kids: my people.
Way to go, girlfriend. "I used to play with these crayons, lining them up, organizing them in different color groups, the way some girls play with dolls." I think that qualifies you as early nerd! My people. xo
I kept trying to predict how this story would end. The actual ending (save for the ring's disappearance) was much better! What a fun read, Nan, and so artfully told. I could picture your seven-year-old self wishing with all your might!
Thanks, Elizabeth! Wouldn't it be cool if the ring materialized? I'm going to text my cousin later and see if he knows anything. xo
Even if it doesn't turn up, the search process and comments from others who remember your Poppa wearing it, will be a story unto itself.
Thank you for this little respite from the onslaught of horrible news. It’s been so fun reading other people’s stories in the comments too. 💜
Thanks for reading and commenting, Jamie. It's been a tough couple of weeks, and then the stomach flu on top of it. Need a little joy right now. I love hearing about other people's childhood memories. It's very sweet. xo
Loving these stories. Xx
Thanks, Ann!
When I was seven years old, my mom took me to the religious bookstore she frequently visited. I bought a book with my allowance. When I got to the car and looked in the bag, I found a twenty dollar bill. I pulled it out and showed it to her.
“We’ll bring it back in,” she said. The woman who owned the store looked at me with an astonished expression.
“Thank you,” she said. “We keep our money in a paper bag, in case someone tries to rob us.”
For years, my mother praised me for being honest. I was puzzled, because what would a seven-year-old do with a twenty dollar bill? But it felt good to be an honest person. I had opportunities to shoplift or steal after that, but didn’t. I do remember finding a broken earring in the street. I kept it, because there was no one to return it to. Looking back, I think it may have been valuable, an opal surrounded by diamonds. But it was pretty. If I’d found it on the floor in a store, I don’t know what I would have done.
Thanks for the sweet story. I have both of my grandmothers’ wedding rings. One was given to me by a cousin, the other by my mom. But I know exactly what you mean about greed. As in: a certain family member absconded with most of the furniture, and a ‘67 Mustang. Pretty brazen.
I’m really happy that your Poppa got the ring, and that it gave you both so much joy. Thanks for a happy story on an otherwise gloomy day. xoxo
Thanks, Mary. Yes, life feels really dark right now, and it's not that I don't want to acknowledge...I just can't and won't get sucked under. What a mess. And yay for your honesty. As for the ring? Who knows....maybe someone will fess up. It has nothing whatsoever to do with material value. It's completely sentimental for me. I wear one of my grandmother's wedding band every day. And I have a beautiful ring that was made from a stickpin that belonged to my great-grandfather. I'm not such a "stuff" person, but the emotional connection that can be made to a thing is very powerful for me.
Any story that involves a Poppa is one I want to read, especially these days. Thanks for sharing, Nan!
Thanks, Jess. I really needed something sweet and soft today. Writing it made me happy to remember the experience.
I’m so glad you got that joy💣 today!