26 September 2012

Lost treasures

I remember, vaguely, when I found it. There it was on ebay, the most unusual stone I'd ever seen. A rather large cut and polished moldavite, in the shape of a casket.

I ordered the stone, and then promptly put it away. See, I was still out there, lost in active addiction at the time, and actually doing something with the stone would have taken money away from my using.

I managed to hang on to the stone even when all of my material things started slipping away.

Once I got clean, I made it a point to get the stone set. I had it done by a fabulous wire-wrapping artist. It was stunning, and here lately, I hadn't taken it off of my finger for more than putting goo in my hair or lotion on my legs. I liked to tell people that it represented my addiction; my disease was locked inside this casket, but always with me, and if I didn't treat it, it would awaken and kill me.

So I never took it off for more than a moment.

Until yesterday.

I was at Sunshine's warehouse, helping him with some very dirty chores that involved products that could turn into cement if left to dry on my jewelry. So I removed my watch and the ring, and put them into a bag on a table on the other side of the warehouse.

When I got the bag outside, the ring was gone.

We searched and searched, to no avail. Sunshine and his employee had given up for the day and planned to resume the search when there was more light.

I began crying, slinging snot everywhere. I crawled through this mess of dirt on the warehouse floor, sifting through it searching for this ring.

This broke Sunshine's heart a little. He and his employee resumed the search. Sunshine even set the grass on fire so it wouldn't impede our search. Before he could get a water hose hooked up and turned on the flames, they were threatening the corner of the building.

I crawled through the watery ashes looking for the ring. I went back inside, wet and sooty, and crawled through the dirty floor some more. I finally had to give up. It was getting too dark, and I still had to go to the grocery store.

Sunshine says they will sift through every bag of product we placed in his truck as they use them today. He also says that we will clean the floor of the warehouse and sift through every bit of the dirt and dust that we gather up. He also said that if we do not find it, we will get another piece of moldavite and have it made into a ring.

The problem with that is that nobody has one cut like that. I've looked. My internet-search-wizard has looked. Nobody has one. I am going to have to find somebody who will cut another one.

I am still very sad this morning. I hope we find my ring. It didn't cost that much; but it had meaning for me. It was a one-of-a-kind, and I loved it. I feel naked without it. I'm also kind of pissed that my actions taken to protect it are what has brought about its loss.

I am not giving up hope, but I have saved my search-wizard's recommendations on where to go to begin the process of having another made.

I miss my ring terribly.


  1. I'm so sorry, Cindy. It sounds like that ring really did represent a lot for you. I hope you find it or something that can represent the same meaning. Maybe it signifies new strength in you.

    I did a quick search on etsy and found these vaguely-coffin shaped moldavite rings:

    I know those probably aren't the same...but maybe they would inspire similar thoughts.

    1. Thank you, Crystal. I'll definitely take a look when I get back yo my laptop where I can see them better.

  2. I'm sorry that you've lost it (for now) Cindy. I wrote a whole big thing about losing significant jewelery (I know what that feels like) and my philosophy around that subject, but figured that might not be something you want to hear right now, while Sunshine looks for your beloved ring. I really hope he finds it for you.

    1. I do too. Bless his heart, that dear sweet man will certainly try.

  3. I hope your ring finds its way back to you.

    1. Thank you. I'm hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

  4. Oh, Cindy. I'm so sorry you lost your ring, but I hope it comes back to you. <3

    1. So far, no luck. They swept the entire shop floor and it didn't turn up.

  5. I am so sorry, Cindy. I hope it comes back to you. Hugs.