Personal Narrative: Acceptanc When My Father

On May 27, 2015, I at last finished a four year in the making milestone in my life; high school. Walking upon the center stage, hearing your name being called and receiving your diploma while shaking the hands of the many faces you either grew to love or despise is a memory forever engraved into graduate’s minds. That diploma that took blood, sweat and tears to finally obtain may have been, for many seniors, their most cherished possession to date; except for me. I would see much of my friends plaster that sheet of decorative, colorful paper on their living room wall, while mine is collecting dust as a base for a gift that means more than those four years of sleepless nights and crammed studying. Following graduation, my grandfather, who traveled more than eight hundred miles from California to watch me cross the stage, gave me an heirloom that had experienced more than fifty years of its own history. More specifically, a ring. A ring that represents to me lessons involving history, …show more content…
However, as the years went on, he was the only child to still possess the only artifact he had of his late father. The diameter of the ring is no more than an inch in width, yet still has the capability to produce a tremendous sense of symbolism. The frameset of it is as gold, as gold itself with an arrow on both sides pointing south. On top of it lies a brown hue oval stone about the size of a pinky nail, but when looking down upon it seems as if it is as large as the universe. When worn, it feels as if time had made it the perfect moment to be passed on to me, because it fits more eloquently than a key to a lock hole, a shoe to a foot, an eyeglass to a pair of frames, and, obviously, a ring held tightly on a finger. Written inside the ring are the three letters R. C. L. in cursive, my grandfather’s initials. As if he signed it himself leaving his own personal identity on the ring