The Pick.

I took Fmom to an appointment yesterday and it was one of our usual rides while reminiscing about the old times. She had told me of when my grandmother had gotten to the point to where she knew she couldn’t live alone by herself anymore, that she wanted to start giving to her children things that she knew they would want. In our family when a direct relative passes away, from their personal things there is what we call a pick. My aunts and my mother were bought together and each took their turn to pick what they wanted from my Grandmother and Grandfather’s life. My Grandmother did this so that she would know that each of her daughters and my father’s family would be treated fairly and there would be no arguments or bad feeling about anything. This was done and it was a few years later that she did pass away. There was another pick after her passing, and then the grandchildren were bought in to pick something they would like to have.

FMom surprised me yesterday when she told me that of all the Aunts, herself, my brothers/sister and cousins, that I had gotten the best pick of everyone. I asked her what she meant and she explained. We grandchildren were bought into an upstairs bedroom where the things we were to pick from were. When my turn came, there was a small box of assorted jewelry that I thought I would just grab something and that would be that. I looked in it and moved some stuff around and saw a small thin gold ring. I took that and went back by my sister and looked at it. I started looking on the inside and saw an inscription. It was very hard to read but I finally saw that it was my Grandmother’s wedding band. I told everybody what it was and I started saying it was too much and was going to put it back, but my sister standing by me dug her heel into my foot and I almost yelled out. I went on to say how surprised and proud I was to have it. I don’t know how my Aunts let the ring get by them and trust me everyone in the room was very surprised.

I’ve always found it distasteful to see some families that go to war over things that belongs to loved ones that passed away. Some families are torn apart and other weather the passing and splitting of things very well. The thing that got me to writing this diary is deciding onto whom I would pass my Grandmother’s wedding band to. I hate to say it, but neither one of my daughters ever knew her, nor do I think they would appreciate it as much as others would. I have five nieces and the only one that knew my grandmother, and I know would appreciate it, I’ve decided to give it to. She’s my sister’s daughter and she already has a two-year-old daughter.

You’ve all heard me preach on how much family traditions mean to me, and I can assure you that when I give the ring to my niece I’ll be preaching them to her too. So many times just a little thing that’s passed down the generations will bring a family closer together, and I’m hoping that my niece and someday my grand-niece will cherish the ring and the traditions as much as I do. I also hope that it will keep being passed down so that no matter what generation has it, they'll know who it belonged to and maybe want to know a little bit more about her and about their heritage.