My dad wore this ring pretty much every day. He got it from his father, who “borrowed” it to wear at prom from his brother (or uncle? I can’t remember the details of the story). The ornate script inscription on the inside says “From Father 1920.”
When I see this ring on my finger it reminds me that my dad is gone. It also makes me think of how much I am like him and about the connections that spread across time and generations. Strange how that works.