I am wearing a ring that I once gave to my friend who is dying. She returned it to me this week, along with several sets of earrings we bought together over the years as we traveled, both outwardly and inwardly. There’s the Eiffel Tower earrings from our trip to Paris, the Celtic earrings we bought in the lower bowels of the abbey in Iona. Moonstones earrings that we often traveled with in tropical places and laid out in the light of the full moon to “recharge”. And the ring with the pearl that I am wearing now that symbolized for me the luminescent quality of her being when I gave it to her. Only now, the pearl is missing from the ring. And she doesn’t have the energy or will to find it. But I want it on my hand. I am wearing it without a setting, without that pearl and it feels strangely right.
When I sense into what that rightness is, it’s not symbolic really of the loss I feel as she is leaving this earth– which would seem to make sense. There is an obvious hole in the setting, something surely missing. But that sentiment is not here. My months of shock, dread, rejection, descent, nausea, weeping, and anxiety have all quieted down. What is here is a surprising sense of wonder. What will I replace in the setting? Another pearl? A stone that is meaningful to each of us? Even a diamond to represent the eternal nature of our soul connection? What will I find? What will find me? I want something that isn’t so much keeping a memory but a continuing of our travel together, but now in a new way. Something of wonder, of mystery, of potential.
Another gift from her was a small sterling silver mobius–the never-ending twisted loop. On it are inscribed the words, “My possibilities are endless.” I let my fingers rub over its edges, feeling not only possibility of her journey onward into realms beyond this one, but the endlessness of love that will travel with her. That’s a wonder too.