Nana

What were you wearing when Papa gave you this?

When he asked you to marry him, did he get down on one knee?

And what did he say and how did he say it?

Did he give a long eloquent speech?

Or was he like when I knew him in his old age: quiet, sincere, strong, and sweet?

Did you cry? Did he?

Or did you use the word “reckon”?

What did your folks say? Were they relieved, you a 16 year old girl, unable to care for you themselves?

Or did part of them die, knowing you’d move on after their too soon deaths?

Did you sneak off and kiss?

Or did circumstance cause you to grow old before it was time?

Was your beauty from wisdom, or from a carefree and joyful heart?

Did you make each other laugh?

Did that twinkle in your eye make him melt?

Did his good looks make you stay?

When you miscarried, did twirling this around your finger bring you comfort?

When your twins died, did Papa hold this and your hand in his?

When grandma was born, did this ring gently caress Papa’s face, hopeful for the future?

Nana, did you ever want to throw this at Papa?

Pack up the kids, and move along?

Or did it remind you why you must stay, the love, like the ring, never ending?

Nana, did you know the love this ring symbolized would birth so much?

Would bring a family together, hold the family like mortar long after your death?

Did you know you’d be a legacy, a love that would never die?

Did you know your great granddaughter would wear the ring everyday, treasuring your memory in her heart forever?

Did you know how much she loved you? Did you?