I wear it on my right ring finger, as that's the only one it fits, apart from the same on my left hand. I wear it slightly off centre, nestled beside a silver ring I bought in Göreme, Turkey, so it's not so starkly an engagement ring, but rather a significant reminder of Mum and where I come from.
Two days ago, it occurred to me, as I gazed at the light reflecting in the multiple facets: I bet Mum used to gaze at it too, so many years ago, when her love for my father was new and fresh, and her eyesight was still perfect.
I am the youngest of five sisters (and one brother), so you might ask why I should come to own such an heirloom. The answer is simple: I had a claim on it, and no one objected. When I was about twelve, sitting in the living room, I saw a tiny piece of tin foil on the sofa, and went to flick it onto the carpet. A split second pause, and I saw it wasn't tin foil: it was a diamond! Next thing: "Mum!!" The stone had come loose of it's setting, and Mum hadn't noticed. I was so pleased, and I imagine she was too.