The class ring ceremony
I wanted to write this post about my son’s class ring ceremony last week, but then he lost his class ring and my bubble was burst. He lost it just two days after he got it.
For two days he beat himself up and we talked through numerous scenarios about where could it be. We looked for it at home, checked his car, and he retraced his steps at the stadium where he was the last time he remembered having it.
He is not stupid or careless, it was just an accident. I have no idea why he wasn’t wearing his class ring, why it was in his pocket. And why was it in his left pocket when he was wearing it (for two days) on his right hand?
A lot of kids in his class didn’t want to get rings. They said class rings are stupid. They don’t wear jewelry. What are they going to do with it after high school? But still, my son wanted one and he agreed to pay for half of it so we sat together and carefully looked at all the choices. There were a lot of things to look at and decisions to be made (far more than when I was a kid!) Ultimately, he chose a class ring that represents him and his interests and tastes.
Not only was the ring itself meaningful, but also it was blessed. I am not even kidding. I do not recall any sort of ceremonial presentation when I got my class ring (I went to public school and he goes to Catholic School so no doubt, that is the difference), but his ring, along with those of all the other juniors at his school who didn’t think class rings are stupid gathered together last Wednesday night for a blessing of the rings. They marched into the gymnasium, girls carrying single red roses and boys wearing boutonnieres. There were speakers. There were prayers. Then there was the presentation where each student was called forward and received his or her ring. I was moved. My son kept shushing me because my amazement was certainly not silent (the ceremony is what I wanted to write about originally).
My son was sure his ring would “turn up.” I felt like he should be more proactive so I strongly suggested he go and look for it “during daylight hours” the day after he lost it. We spent two days worrying separately over it. Me, wishing I could make things right for him (because I know how disappointed he was, but at the same time, knowing sometimes my kids have to sit with their problems. Like my middle son whose Xbox headset is broken. Or my youngest who dropped his phone and his tablet days apart — cracking both screens — who is trying to decipher shattered texts and has used tape to contain the shards on the tablet. Yes, I will help them remediate their issues but sometimes the answer isn’t “yes” or “no,” it’s just “wait.”) and him beating himself up over “how could I be so stupid.”
During house cleaning today, everyone was chartered with straightening up his room. Even though we had looked all over my son’s room with flashlights under the furniture, it wasn’t until he moved things around with the vacuum that he found his class ring. I was amazed that it actually did “turn up,” and imagine it is because it was prayed over and blessed.