My Middle Eastern heritage has molded me into someone who adores precious stones and delicate jewelry. From a young age, I have been drawn to rings and precious gemstones set on silver. The piece of jewelry I have always admired and that means a lot to me is my grandmother’s turquoise ring.
The stone on her finger was originally about one centimeter in length and a little over half a centimeter in diameter. It was a paler blue color with an impeccable shine making it instantly visible and very attractive. The stone had a rough black mark that ran from the bottom, where it was attached to the ring, up to the very middle of the stone on one side. This imperfection added to the natural beauty of the turquoise stone on my grandmother’s finger.
She was often complimented on how beautiful the ring was and that the silver work it was set on was so intricate and detailed. To me, it was an absolute beauty, and the fact that the ring belonged to my grandmother made it even more special. I felt as though a beautiful woman like her deserved the best of everything.
Everyone in my family, from my grandfather to my youngest aunt, has a turquoise ring because we believe it brings us fortune, health, and protection. The stronger the turquoise stone, the better the quality, and therefore the more valuable it is. Mother was never a fan of the tradition and refused to wear hers; she gave it to Grandmother for safekeeping.
I remember when I was very young, my grandmother would bring a new turquoise stone for one of her children when they turned 18. They would hold two turquoise stones near each other to compare which one is stronger and would “win”. The stronger turquoise stone would absorb the other’s colour and shine, and the weaker turquoise would become a duller colour. My uncle’s stone would win against everyone else’s.
My grandmother never took part in the comparisons. As a child, I found this to be a very fun tradition and would ask Grandmother why she wouldn’t participate, because her ring was the most beautiful I had seen.
“Why not try, Grandmother? Yours would win, I just know it,” I pleaded once, holding up her hand.
She always gave me the same reason. “I would be too sad if my stone was lost. And if it won… Well, I’d rather not make others feel bad about theirs. And remember a heart that truly believes it’s worth needs no contest,” she would answer, smoothing my hair with a loving hand. I didn’t quite understand that last part until much later.
The stones would initially be kept in water for a few days until their quality was determined. My grandmother, then, would take the best of the few pieces out of the water and give it to our silversmith to set the stone on a silver ring. My youngest aunt, being the baby in her family, got hers on her 18th birthday, when I was only 8 years old. I thought she was very lucky to be getting hers, and I impatiently waited for the day Grandmother would finally give me mine…Though I had a very long way to go.
I was 10 when my mother decided we would move to Canada, and my grandparents all stayed in my home country. On our last day, Grandmother gave my mother the turquoise she had been keeping for her and told her to wear it for the trip, and that it would bring luck when starting a new life in a different country. Mother took the ring and put it on her finger, but took it off soon after. When I asked her why, she explained she did not believe in the luck the ring would bring her, and she did not want to upset Grandmother on the last day, so she had accepted it.
“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” she murmured, tucking the ring safely into her bag.
I never quite understood my mother’s thoughts behind her belief, as it was still a beautiful ring to wear regardless of tradition.
Years later, I was on the phone with Grandmother when she told me that she had taken off her ring while cooking and the ring fell off. The stone had somehow broken into two pieces. I was very saddened by the news because the broken stone is said to be a bad omen. Grandmother told me that if she could repair it and re-set it, it would be fine.
“It still holds its spirit,” she insisted gently, “even if it’s in two pieces.”
When Mother found out about the news, she was very sad. She knew how much the stones meant to Grandmother.
I felt I could finally ask Mother why she wouldn’t wear hers, and kept it in a box inside a drawer. She told me that when she first wore the ring, her Father got into a terrible motorcycle accident, and he injured himself very badly. She thought the ring brought everyone else protection, but it brought her bad luck. She felt maybe it was the fact that she wore the ring that she almost lost my father.
“I wore it that one day and the incident happened.” She said quietly. “I never wanted to wear it again.”
I didn’t question it. Although I am not as superstitious a person as my mother, I felt that if the ring did bring any type of omen, it was good luck. Maybe it was the ring that protected Father and the reason why he survived the accident.
“Maybe,” I whispered, “it saved him instead.”
When I was 17, I went back to visit my grandparents. I saw the new ring Grandmother had made for herself with only half of the original turquoise stone. It was as beautiful as ever. Despite it being only half the original size, it was still the most beautiful turquoise ring I had seen.
On the day of our flight back to Canada, my grandmother brought me a box and told me it was an early present for my 18th birthday. I opened the box to see a turquoise stone set on the most beautiful silver ring. I looked closer and saw a rough black curve on the right side coming up to the middle of the stone. It was not just any turquoise stone that she had given me, it was the other half of her turquoise. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I felt so happy and grateful, but there was also a hint of sadness. I thanked her and asked if she was sure about it. I knew how much she loved the ring herself.
“I’m sure,” she smiled. “Now a part of me will always be with you. You will remember me each time you look at it or someone asks you about it. Promise you’ll wear it always?”
I promised. I loved the ring and was ever so grateful.
At that point, there was one thing that I had always wanted to do. I went to my uncle and asked him if he would want to compare turquoise stones, since his was always the winner.
“Are you ready to lose?” he teased, laughing warmly.
“Oh, we will see,” I said, lifting my hand confidently.
I put my ring near his, and we both waited to see a reaction in the rings. His stone lost a slight bit of colour, and I realized my ring had won. Impressed by the stone’s strength, my uncle smiled at me and called me lucky. I looked at my grandmother on the other side of the room, and I instantly knew she was aware of the result without looking. I understood Grandmother’s reason for never participating in comparing the turquoise stones. She knew hers would win and did not need the confirmation if it would make others disappointed.
