But I need to say goodbye to something else.
I have worn the same feather ring for the last 12 years. Every single day, in the barn, at work, at school, under gloves, under mittens, under reins and brooms, this ring has lasted happily on my hand.
Until last month, when my ring met its final end, abandoned somewhere on the ice during a curling match, tragically flung from the pocket of my sweater when another curler gathered up clothing that was left on the scoreboards. Swallowed by the Zamboni, presumably, never to be seen nor heard from again.
I was upset, needless to say.
I welled up a bit. And then I slipped on my class ring, a size and a half too big for my ring finger, and began the search for a replacement. A ringplacement, if you will.
I searched high and low, left and right, up and down. I googled for the same ring, hoping that 12 years later, there would magically be an American Eagle feather ring on eBay. Too much hope, not enough luck. So I turned to Etsy and began the dig. And I dug and dug, and dug some more, adding ring after ring after ring to a list of Ringplacement possibilities.
One ring, to rule them all (them being my fingers), stood above the rest. The same thickness and width as my feather ring, it would fit perfectly into the kind dent left by my dear friend.
This is my new honeycomb ring, which came all the way from a jewelry maker named Esmeralda, who lives in Stockholm. She was amazing and made sure that I would get the ring I wanted, not just the ring I ordered. As soon as the package arrived from Sweden ("We don't have rings in America?!" exclaimed my dad), I ripped open the box and slid the ring on my finger, where it has remained ever since.
I'll never forget my feather ring. It was a great ring. But if this ring lasts as long--or even half as long--as the feather ring, I'll be a happy girl indeed.