Barefoot Bellringing

Not that long ago I was in my parent’s house. The one where I spent 10 years of my life. My Dad died nearly a year ago and my Mam has since relocated. But the house is still there, almost the same as I remember it.

When my Mam has first talked of relocating she asked if I wanted her eternity ring. It’s a simple, beautiful ring made of Welsh gold with diamond chips all the way around. My Dad gave it to her when they had been married five years. Why at the five-year mark? Because they had been through some extraordinary stuff. Eighteen months after they were married, and long before my Dad became a father; he was involved in a motorcycle accident. He was hit by a car while riding his cycle, and initially left for dead at the scene.

As a result of his accident, he had to leave his job and so did my Mam, so she could look after him, once he was released from hospital. They lived on close to nothing. And survived. So when the insurance cheque finally arrived, just after their fifth anniversary, Dad took Mam to a secondhand store and asked her to pick out an engagement ring.

You see, when they were talking about getting married, money was tight. They paid for the wedding themselves and made a decision to go on honeymoon, rather than buy a diamond ring. So when there was money available, after they had paid off their debts, Dad bought Mam an engagement ring, as well as an eternity band. Mam can’t remember when he gave it to her, but she doesn’t think it was at the same time.

Mam has lost a lot of weight and her rings don’t fit her properly anymore. What she’s planning to do is take her wedding ring, her engagement ring, my Nana’s wedding ring, and have them melted down and fashioned into a right hand ring.

Which leaves the eternity band. What about it? It was decided it shouldn’t be melted down as it’s beautiful as it is. It likely could pass for a wedding ring. And as I was admiring it one day she said, with time, it would be mine.

I went to visit my Mam when I was on my way home. She is settling in at her new suite and the place is starting to look like home. I had brought her a collage frame with pictures of the family, including my Dad, and several of my Mam. She was thrilled and we hung it on her wall.

She disappeared into the bedroom and started rifling through things then presented me with the eternity band.

Most ordained clergy wear a ring of some description on the “ring finger” of their right hand. It is meant to symbolise commitment to God. My right hand ring finger has been empty for some time as I try to find a ring to wear, to symbolise my commitment to God. It is now adorned. With the eternity band.

Every time I look at the ring I am reminded of the story of my Mam and Dad. I am reminded that God has been with me always and remind with me always. And I will always, for all eternity, give thanks to God for calling me into service.

So through the trials and tears of the past few years, I can now see a visible reminder of an inward belief. Hmmm, the same definition of faith. Hmmm.

Thank you God for calling me into service. Thank you for your patience as I stumble along, trying to figure this stuff out. Thank you to my parents for teaching me about staying together…no matter what. Thank you to my Dad for renewing his lifelong commitment to my Mam. And thank you to my Mam for sharing a very special token of her love for Dad, with me.

To the world it may simply be a ring. But to me, it means the world.