Once upon a time, there were three Josephs in my family..My great grandfather, my Granfather and my Father. The ring on the middle finger belonged to the first one, and generation to generation it was passed to the boy named Joseph in the family. But...
As the story goes on, the last *boy* in my family (in the time sonograms didn't exist) was me.
And I happened to be a girl... or more likely, a tomboy, hehe.
But still, Dad left me the mark of the family, so there you have it, probably the only antique I own, and probably I will pass to my little boy, (whose middle name will be Joseph, no matter what my future, currently non-existent husband says)..and so on.
The other one, is my father's wedding band...
And my hands lived happily ever after... boney and ugly, but happy :)
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