With all of our boys grown, four of them married, and the grandchildren coming fast and furious (praise God!), never have we appreciated the perks that come with my husband's job more than we do now. I never thought I'd become a jet-setter; but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.
When my boys were little, the idea of airplane travel was the stuff of my worst nightmares. I avoided it whenever possible, and never did it if it meant leaving my children behind. Now, I fly all. the. time.
Because if I didn't, I wouldn't see my kids--and now my grandkids--nearly as often as I do.
Anyway, one day during this most recent visit, 4-year-old Cutie Pie (one of the twins) was sitting on my lap, fiddling with my Claddagh ring. I pointed out all the elements on it--the crown, the heart, and the two hands holding the heart--and told her what these images symbolize. She sighed, and breathed, in the most awe-filled little voice, "It's beautiful."
|"Tell me more about this Cladddagh ring, Grammy."|
|My Claddagh ring, still intact after all these years (although I've had to|
have it repaired a couple of times); and its original box.
Speaking of Claddagh rings, I actually wrote a book about one. (How's that for a segue?!) It's called Erin's Ring.
The past month, I was running a giveaway over at Goodreads, which ended last night. Two people have been chosen to win free signed copies of Erin's Ring, an historical novel about an Irish Claddagh ring (and other stuff, too). If you entered and didn't win, I'm sure I'll be running another giveaway sometime in the future.
Now no more navel gazing (or Claddagh ring gazing). I'm off to cook up some bacon. Sundays mean big egg and bacon brunches with my main man, something we always look forward to when we get back from morning Mass.
Here's a wish that your Sunday will be golden, too, wherever you may be.