This is one of those wild stories that you never think will happen to you in a million years... until it does. This is the story of how I (temporarily) lost one of the most sentimental, valuable items that my mother had passed down to me in my family.

Growing up, my mom always had this beautiful little gold pinky ring on that I absolutely adored. She'd let me borrow any piece of her jewelry, except for this little ring. My mother would rather allow me to wear her diamonds for the night over this little ring. She finally told me the story behind it, and I understood why this was the one piece of jewelry that she couldn't bare to even risk her child wearing. I say "wedding ring" because it's just as important as the ring you say forever to.


This was her childhood ring that she wore and kept on her hand for over 20 years. It got her through the tough years of middle school, and the even tougher high school years. It got her through her marriage with my dad (yes they are still married), and it got her through sickness and health as her life progressed.

One day, I got a birthday card in the mail from my mother when I turned 30. She always sent me cards religiously for every occasion. It was something I never took for granted, but always expected. However, this card changed my life, which sounds dramatic, but it's true. She wrote something along the lines of how it was now my turn to hold onto her ring, and how proud she was of the way I never did drugs and chased my career. I remember that moment like it was yesterday, and I'll never forget it. It was a milestone for her to not only break ties with something so special to her, but to also trust me not to lose it.

While that was one the best day of my life, six months later, it was about to be one of the worst. I had gone to the gym and took my rings off for bootcamp. I typically put them in a case and bring them inside with me, but this gold ring slipped and missed the case, and fell into the Bermuda Triangle in your car where fries go to die. I ripped my car apart to no end, but with no luck. This ring was gone forever. That is, until I called my friends up over at LEE auto mall in Westbrook and asked them if there was any way they could take my seat out and get a more thorough look than I could. They immediately agreed, and I took my Jeep down to see them.

Within 30 minutes, they had gotten into a very rare space where it fell, and returned it to me. I am forever grateful for these dudes to have even had enough of a heart to help me look. Thank you Matt & Dan, and all the guys who are always so great to me over there. You healed a broken heart!

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