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If I had to pick one particular gift in my possession that reminds me of a special event in my life, it would definitely be my grandmother's engagement ring. How it came to belong to me is certainly a day in my life that I will never forget. My grandmother died in September of 1995, just two months before the birth of my daughter. When I arrived in North Carolina for her funeral I was exhausted from the long trip up from Florida, and I was feeling weak from the mixture of pregnancy and grief. The funeral felt like a dream and everyone and everything around me felt as if it were moving in slow motion. I can remember standing beside her casket and feeling overwhelmed with sadness; I was in so much pain I thought my heart would just cease beating inside of my chest. I was the first of Mary Frances Gardiner's grandchildren, and most would say I was her favorite; although grandma's were not supposed to admit such things. Her death was especially hard for me to deal with, I felt as though part of me had died along with her.

After we had a graveside service at the cemetery, my family and I got together at the home of one of my grandmother's sisters. Going back to my great aunt's house for food and coffee made me angry. I kept asking myself, "How could these people be sitting here eating?" I felt as if I had just lost my best friend, and the added disappointment of knowing my grandmother would not be alive to see her first great grandchild seemed to be too much for me to bear. I was feeling so sorry for myself and I was very angry with God. Just then, I spotted my grandfather slumped over in a chair, far off in a dark corner of the den. I knew in my heart that the grief that my grandfather was experiencing had to be insurmountable, even for one hundred men to endure. I knew that I had lost a special family member, but now I was realizing that this man had just buried his lovely wife. Throughout the years as I had been growing up, my grandfather would always tell me how honored and proud he was to be married to my grandma. She was gone now, and he looked as though he would soon die himself. I slowly crept up to where he was sitting, and I sat in the floor beside his chair. He turned his glance to look down at me and his expression changed to one of those unmistakably false smiles, the kind of smile that someone gives you when they don't want you to worry about them. I knew that there were no words that I could say to make his pain go away, so I just laid my hand on

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