“Autumn, the years last,loveliest smile”—William Cullen Bryant

After my mother died (what a dire way to begin a post) my father did what many fathers do. He gave me my mother‘s jewelry. It wasn’t a lot of jewelry and much of it was costume jewelry. But there were a few pieces that were real gold, real gems. And one of them was her wedding ring. I had always loved my mother’s wedding ring. It was a gold band, but deeply engraved all the way around. I loved it so much that when I chose my engagement ring, it was because it reminded me of my mother‘s wedding band. So when my father gave it to me, I slipped it on almost immediately onto my finger right above my wedding band and engagement ring. I wore it there for 30 years until the man who gave me my engagement ring upped the ante. And on our 40th anniversary he gave me an entire new wedding set. I then put the ring into my jewelry box where it remained just a few years. And then one day, my daughter, by now, engaged and ready to be married herself, asked if she could have my mother‘s wedding band as her wedding band. I of course said yes, immediately so happy that this beloved daughter would be wearing the wedding band that first my mother had worn for over 50 years, and then then I had worn for 30 years. A talisman of the grandmother she had never met.

A few days ago, while out on an early morning walk, I saw a familiar site on the damp sidewalk in front of my home. Gold. When we moved into this house almost 40 years ago, there was a new tree planted in front. It was just a sapling. I couldn’t tell you what kind of tree it was, it was just new. Now all these years later, it is taller than the roof of my house, And every year it drops its leaves ,of course, in fall. Small always, yellow golden leaves scattered there on the sidewalk creating a golden path in front of my home. I’ve taken a lot of photos of this tree, usually through an upstairs window that peeks out at the top of the tree that fills with gold on sun lit mornings. For a tree that was ignored in its infancy, I’ve become obsessed with it in its middle age. And more recently I started taking pictures of our golden retriever on the same golden path.

Murphy, was the fourth golden retriever that has belonged in my house,in our family, and in my heart. He arrived here somewhere around five years old, a rescue after the hurricane that hit Puerto Rico. He followed, Bella, Yankee, and Kalahan into our lives. He died in February this year. And as fall begins its colorful entrance I realize that this the longest period of time that we have not had a golden in our home since 1985. And I don’t like it.

Now I know there are people who are not that interested in jewelry, costume jewelry, or fine jewelry. They’re just not that interested. They may even think it’s silly or foolish or too expensive no matter what the cost. They don’t/won’t wear it they may say. Well, that’s a whole other discussion which will also involve “good” china. But I digress.

So my perspective is a little different. You see, I believe that wedding ring connects the women who have worn it, to each other in a meaningful way. It tells the story of weddings and marriages. It connected me to my mother every time someone said to me, “ What a beautiful ring.” because I could say “Thank you, it was my mother’s.” And in that moment I could think of her. And yes of course, she often told me her favorite season was fall. And yes, fall is my favorite season too.

So when I ventured out on a sunny not quite fall morning and I saw that golden pathway, I thought of my beautiful golden escorts who are no longer with me. And the sun and the leaves reminded me of those fluffy lovable creatures. And that’s a good memory and a good thing too.

And when I wear my mother’s gold locket (in which she had placed a two photos one each of my husband and me) I think of her, and that’s a good memory and a good thing too.

Both of these two formulas prove, to me at least, the rule.

It seems that all that glitters is truly gold.

I’m just say’n.