Grandma's ring

Oh, hi. Almost forgot all about ya. Well, I am going to Lala Land, and probably this coming weekend, if all goes according to plan. I will camp for a week in my favorite hot springs and then head on down to the concrete jungle. I am excited for my next step. I hope I can finish my Ganesh in time. Yesterday I perfected his man boobs. They were described by my friend as "elegant" which I guess is appropriate for an elephant.
As for the title of this entry... I went to the local pub to celebrate their 8th anniversary. It was chilly that night so I was taking my gloves off and on. When I got home and began to settle down for the night, I became very aware that my ring was missing.
I actually have two rings from my grandmother: one I would call a cocktail ring, the other is the one I wear more often. One I was given after her death, the other she gave me this ring when I was in high school. Until that point, even up in to middle school, she would get me crap things for Christmas like a rotating unicorn music box. I had come to expect this from my grandma, and did my best to seem pleased by her gifts. When she gave me her old amethyst, I had never received such a beautiful, grown up gift. I have cherished it always.
This is the ring that went missing. I tore apart my other jewelry, I checked pockets and bags. I went in to town the next day and searched the ground of the pub. I called the owner and asked him if they'd seen it. I had to reconcile myself with this being a matter of attachment to a physical object, and that my love for my grandmother is merely symbolized in the ring, but our love is ultimately greater. Tough work, that. More importantly, I prayed.
I performed at the open mic the next night. Not many people signed up, so the guy running it let me have a loooong set. I talked about bunches of stuff, including the missing ring and my DMV experience (I showed up 2 minutes too late, those ladies wouldn't budge and didn't care I drove 30 minutes to get there. I'd have to come back the next day to start the test. I wouldn't be that friendly if I worked at the DMV either). At the end of my set the bartender stood holding my ring, without a dent or scratch on it.
She told me I was a very lucky girl, and I couldn't agree with her more.