The Stone of Hope

I was supposed to be working on some homework the other day and I began to zone out because 1) it is too close to the end of the semester to stay focused and 2) I couldn’t imagine anything duller and less stimulating than analyzing the breakdown of the economic market of gasoline. When I began to stare off in space I found myself fingering the tiny opal ring that I gave you for graduation that now hangs from a chain on my neck. I was thinking back to how your obsession with opals seemed to continuously lead you to my bathroom where I kept my opal ring that our grandmother had given me for my graduation and how no matter how many times you got caught, you continuously tried to steal it. So, when it came time for you to toss you cap in the air, I knew exactly what to get you. While yours was not as big of an opal as the one previously given to me, you loved it anyway.

I was remembering last year when sent me a frantic text because the opal had fallen out of your ring and you had just gone to the jewelers where they told you that for a small ($85) fee they would replace the opal. I was on the phone with you listening to you describe the scene as you walked into the jewelers and a sleazy looking man in his 50’s approached you. When asked what he could do for you, you quickly explained about the missing opal. You gave him some general background on the ring: it was a gift from your sister, you had only had it two months, and it was purchased in Gainesville. Upon asking you a some other questions about the ring, like if store insurance had been purchased on the ring, you tactfully replied that you “weren’t really sure, the only thing that I really know about jewelry, is that I like to wear it.” Genius. I had to explain to you that people like the sleazy man in the jewelry shop were not going to give you things for free, regardless of whether it was owed to you, if you came in to the store with little confidence and short shorts on. The salesman had made you for a sucker, and he was right because when it came to negotiation skills, you were lacking (except for with your parents, that is). You were certain that I was not going to have any more luck getting the opal replaced than you were. So I told you to go back to the store and call me back. After telling the salesman (who wasn’t that great at his job) that I had spoken with corporate and that he was obligated to put the ring in a package and send it to their repair center for immediate repair, he obliged and I was once again, correct. I then told you that demanding skills ran in our blood (from maternal grandmother) and that it was something that you would come into on your own time.

The text I received when the opal fell out of your ring

I looked at the ring and the tiny rays of the rainbow sparkling across it along with the memory of your ring debacle got me to thinking why opals were so special to you or what they stood for. Once again, I headed straight for Google.  According to several different articles, opals are considered both the luckiest and unluckiest stone, depending on your upbringing and area of birth. Most often, opals are associated with good fortune, though. The Romans believed that carriers of opals, like rainbows, would have good luck bestowed upon them. They believed that it was the stone of hope and purity and because of its clear complexion it was called the ‘Cupid’s Stone’, after the God of Love. I found this particularly interesting, that opals were considered, by early Greeks, to bring the power of foresight to the owner and ancient Arabians believed that opals were sent from Heaven in flashes of lightening. Since the night you died, I have associated lightening with your death because at about 11:15 that evening, while sewing on the sewing machine in our basement a flash of lightning struck a tree in the front yard, but it was so powerful that it ran the course of wiring in our house and actually shocked me through the small, metal plate that my finger was resting upon on the sewing machine. When we returned from the hospital that morning, we discovered the identity of the lightening’s intended victim. A medium sized tree was splintered and reduced to toothpicks by its vicious attack. The tree had a scorch line that ran the length of its tattered, halved trunk. It was as though someone had dropped a giant stick of TNT into the center of that tree, lite it, and ran. So when read that opals were associated with lightening, it reminded me of the tree and the shock, both physically and emotionally, that I had received that night.

I knew that the opal is the birthstone of October, but as I read further into their background, I discovered that they are also called the stone of hope. They are said to bring comfort, calm, and above all hope to whoever wears it. You were wearing the ring I gave you on a necklace the night that you died, and I can only pray that it brought you tranquility and hope. 

I now wear the ring on a necklace with a music note, every day, and I’m not sure if it is my willpower or the opal set in the tiny ring that I wear, but it seems to bring a tiny ray of hope for our family's future and peace for myself. I like to think that it is the folklore of the opal that brings me that hope.

I started wondering, as I held your little ring between my fingers, when I turned it just the right way, if the tiny rays of all those colors could reach you in heaven and send you all my love with them? Then I thought of how you would probably yell at me for wearing YOUR opal ring, in a voice attempting to mock mine, and I laughed.

Our Opal rings.