Keep Telling Stories
Lessons and human connections
I wrote an entirely different post for this week about secrets and why we keep our art and ideas to ourselves. Then, I started thinking about something my dad told me a few months ago: everyone likes talking about themselves. I immediately disagreed. I don’t want to talk about myself, hence all the secrets about my projects, but he argued that I do, in fact, love talking about myself. I don’t always want to answer direct questions about my writing or jobs or what I like to do in my free time. I, however, will always tell a story.
I moved to a new city a few months ago; thus, everyone I meet is new to me, and stories have become a commodity. They’re how you get to know your friend’s partner and your coworkers and your neighbors. You share and connect over your shared stories. This is never more clear than when you work in retail and see so many people in a few hour span.
On a busy Sunday in the store I work at, I see many people. I see regulars and greet them like friends that I don’t always remember their names. I remember their baby’s face. I remember the story they told about the last time they were in. I do not always remember everyone or everything we sell on busy days. People and things come and go, and I spend half the day putting things back on shelves after people have come through.
On one particular Sunday in the middle of the day, a man with a face too young to have such white hair told me my ring was beautiful. I do not remember what he bought or how much he spent or who was with or if he had any other identifying details. I do remember the shock I felt.
I almost expect compliments from women. They, too, are a commodity. They break the ice in a way that does not transcend to cis-men most of the time. Someone complimenting my jean jumpsuit starts one story about the purchasing of it and how it barely fit into my suitcase and how I went to a party one night where a man’s comment was on the fact that I was wearing all jean. I’m not sure if it was positive or negative, but it didn’t lead to further conversation. I rarely receive unsolicited comments about my ring.
When I was in Ireland last fall, I knew I wanted at least one souvenir, but it would have to fit in my hiking backpack. That’s all I had brought, and that’s all I could take home with me. I got a tattoo. I got a pair of socks. And then, in County Galway, I heard the story of the Claddagh ring as I looked across the River Corrib at Claddagh, a fishing village outside Galway’s city walls.
The story goes that Richard Joyce’s ship was captured, and he was sold into slavery and trained as a goldsmith. He then created the Claddagh ring for the woman he had planned to marry, the love of his life. The crown represents loyalty, the heart love, and the hands friendship, the perfect storm for a marriage. Upon his release or his escape, depending on who you ask, he gave his love the ring.
It is a beautiful story, whether it is a myth or exaggerated in any way. The more beautiful part, to me, is that people in Galway still wear the ring. If you go to bars in the Latin Quarter in Galway city, people will know your relationship status depending on which hand the ring is on and whether you wear it in or out. It is still a popular design for a wedding band for people of all genders. It is given in familial love and friendship as well. This would be my souvenir. So one rainy day—really the only terribly rainy day during my entire trip—I went to the jeweler and bought myself a Claddagh ring. I wear it every day because once the jewelry comes off, I find it hard to remember to put it back on. I’ve told this story and explained the ring to several people, but this man’s compliment was the first I’d heard in a while.
Again, I don’t find that compliments about physical appearance are typically doled out by random men I meet. This leads me to believe this man knows the story of the Claddagh ring, that he has Irish roots or a love for folklore or has been to Ireland and heard the stories. The ring is unassuming and not flashy, just sterling silver and small enough to be missed. He, however, saw it as I handed him his receipt, and I wonder if he’ll go home to tell someone the story of the Claddagh ring he saw that day. I wonder if he’ll Google the ring to remember the folklore so he gets it right. I wonder if it brings back any memories of a grandmother or a trip he took thirty years ago.
Stories are one of my favorite commodities. They are neverending loops of entertainment, memories, and modifications made by time and distance. There’s always a chance that man has never seen a Claddagh ring before and won’t tell anyone what he saw that day. There’s an even better chance that he will. While we may never meet again, we will live on in each other’s memories of that one time a ring was seen while handing over a receipt. That’s the power of a story.
Weekly R.E.P.O.R.T.
Reading: Shady Hollow by Juneau Black
I’ve been meaning to read more cozy mysteries, so this seems like a fun place to start.
Eating: I made the same grocery store sugar cookie replicas as a few weeks ago, and they turned out totally different! I used more flour and mixed for longer. This made them turn out dryer and crumblier. I can’t say I love either version yet. On to the next trial and error!
Playing: “Too Much” by Dove Cameron, and I would really appreciate if The Beaches would release “Last Girls at the Party” sooner rather than later.
Obsessing: My giant bean bag chair is wildly comfortable and the best place to crash after work.
Recommending: Running Point
It’s a new Kate Hudson show on Netflix. Mostly, I’m here to see Max Greenfield, but I also can’t help singing “You’re So Vain” every time Kate Hudson walks into a room.
Treating: A new book: Instructions for Traveling West by Joy Sullivan
I stumbled upon “Almonds” by Joy Sullivan on Substack, and when I went scrolling through her Notes, I soon found myself on Google Books searching for any pages I could read of her book. Then, I found out my local bookstore had one copy, and I was there the next day buying it.
That’s all she wrote…
Thanks for reading (or skipping) to the end! This newsletter will be coming to your inbox weekly, but you can read previous editions on Substack. In the meantime, feel free to leave any comments, questions, or your own recommendations and life updates. Write you again soon!
Love this - I have a claddagh ring too. I got mine at the Dublin Irish fest here in Columbus. 😊