Well this classy lady had a beautiful ring. She wore it proudly and then she passed away and left the ring to her niece, matante Corinne who also wore it proudly for awhile. Matante Corinne was my mother's sister who also lived in Montreal. Another classy lady. OK, whoever is reading this from Montreal, it doesn't mean you are classy. I pick my classy people. I also lived in Montreal and I decided that I am classy. Anyway, coming back to my story. Matante Corinne gave the ring to my mother to give to me eventually. My mother gave it to her other sister matante Lorraine (are you following me).....let's review: Anna-Marie is my great aunt, Corinne is my mother's sister and Lorraine is also my mother's sister. My mother is Fenella. OK, enough laughing with my mother's name. People called her Fen. Try explaining to your teacher in grade one that your mother's name is Fenella and the teacher keeps asking, who, FENELLA, Fenequoi, F E N E L L A. Eventually, I loved her name. It sounded so well, so ..... je ne sais quoi. Continuing on, my mother gave it to matante Lorraine to wear for as long as she wanted but it was to come back to me. It should be known that matante Lorraine was my aunt Anna-Marie's favorite niece so my mother felt that it was important for matante Lorraine to wear the ring. And did she ever wear it well.
Matante Lorraine lived in a residence for the last 10 years or so. Everytime I went to Campbellton to visit, I would go see her. That ring fit her finger like a movie star. She had the hand and finger for it. From time to time she would tell me, Loulou, tiens prends la bague, Loulou, here take the ring. I would always say, non matante, ce n'est pas le temps. No matante, it's not time. On my next visit, she would say the same thing. Well matante Lorraine, who was also my Godmother, passed away on October 12 of this year at the age of 95. She was a beautiful lady. She never showed her age. She was a proud lady, always dressed to perfection. She had a wonderful husband Emile, who by the way, I was his favorite niece. True story. I was. She had 2 sons Jean-Jacques and Claude and a wonderful daughter-in-law Diane, and 2 grand-children Angèle and Alain who just became a new father with his wife Lise to a beautiful boy Felix.
Where this story gets interesting is here. About 4 months ago, my cousin Jean-Jacques went to visit his mother and noticed that she was not wearing her ring. My aunts hands were a bit stiff so he thought that they had probably taken all of her rings off. He looked everywhere and couldn't find it. He called my brother Philippe, figuring that because Philippe had once been a Private Investigator (oh ya, we had it all in our family, my father was a magician, and apparently my uncle Rudy was a spy, so he always said). Philippe and Jean-Jacques looked everywhere and could not find the ring. In pockets, garbage....everywhere. All this time, I know nothing about the missing ring. So one evening in early October, Philippe tells me about the ring being lost. Well I was sad but of course things like this happens. Especially in Nursing Homes. Hey, my mother lost her dentures in the hospital. She never did find them. Somebody is probably chewing something with her teeth as we speak. Philippe told me that Jean-Jacques didn't know how to tell me. Hey, I'm easy and understandable. It happens. So matante Lorraine passed away and Jean-Jacques picked up all of her belongings. The staff asked him if he had everything. He said well, no. I am missing praying beads and a ring. The Nursing Home said, oh, can you describe the ring. You never know. So Jean-Jacques who has a photographic memory went home and drew every little details of the ring in 3D. Oh ya, I have smart people in my family. He brought the drawing to the nursing home not long after his mom died and that was that. Now we're talking October of this year. 3 weeks before Christmas Jean-Jacques gets a call from the nursing home and was asked to go there. They had the drawing and said, with this picture, there is no way that this ring is not your mother's. In a tiny little brown envelope was this beautiful ring. On the envelope was marked: November 14, 2011 (yes over a year ago), this was found in (they named the lady) bed. Passed on to nurse last week. November 18, 2011, checked with lady's contact, not hers. For over a year the ring had been missing and it was kept safe and sound. Kudos to the staff of the nursing home. Anyone could have taken it.
So at Christmas time, I went to visit my family in Campbellton. Jean-Jacques came to see me at Philippe's and I could see that he felt bad about the ring. So he tells me how they couldn't find it, him and Philippe looked everywhere but to no avail. I said, don't worry Jean-Jacques, things like this happens. And he continues to tell me the story. As he is telling me this, he puts his hand in his pocket. I thought ah maybe he will give me a souvenir of matante as I was her Godchild. One of her pins maybe. As soon as he said, AND THEN 3 WEEKS AGO.....my heart stopped, I covered my face with my hands and I started to cry. This could not be happening. They had found the ring. It was a very emotional moment. It was the perfect size. It was the perfect ring.
I came back to France on January 8th with my family heirloom and brought it to the jewelry store this passed Saturday, the best one I could find in Arras. A 4th generation jewelry store. I wanted to know a little bit more about the ring and I wanted it cleaned. He said, oh this is a very beautiful ring, hand made, 14 carat white and yellow gold, 5 small diamonds, dinner ring and is over 100 years old. He said I will have it ready for you next Saturday, January 19th. I said, great.
Yesterday I had a hard day. I felt alone, I felt lost and I cried and cried. 6 years ago today, my mother died. I needed her last night. I found comfort in praying, and a very special message from a friend. Today I received a call from the jewelry store. My ring was ready. My mother was with me and helped me through last night and today. She made sure I had my ring today, on her day. So today, I thought of my mom and felt at peace in remembering and celebrating the person that she was and her contribution and love for me. These are not my words but the words of a special friend that sent me this message last night. I believe that it was meant to happen this way. I believe that I was meant to tell this story. I believe that matante Anna-Marie, matante Corinne, my mother and matante Lorraine are proud of seeing this ring on my finger. I will cherish it. Jean-Jacques told me when he gave it to me, Loulou wear it for a long time. I plan on living for a long time.
Jean-Jacques, I cannot thank you enough for giving me this ring. You made me happy and everytime I look at it, I see your mother's hand.
So this is my story. I hope you enjoy.
