She brought the molds out on one of those hot summer days. The old plastic ones with the wooden sticks. You’d pour the juice together, check on them approximately anxiously every several minutes for them to freeze and somehow waiting made them taste better.
This ring is that memory — the particular pink of a popsicle melting on a hot afternoon, made with your grandmother’s hands guiding yours.
Hand-forged sterling silver, genuine faceted pink tourmaline. The color of pure summer joy. One of a kind. When it’s gone, it’s gone.
