As far as I can remember, I always gaped and awed at my father’s Aggie Ring. It was so tiny yet so grand. As a kid, I would try to pry it off my dad’s finger, usually with little success and always rewarded with quick scolding. I would roll the warm circular jewelry around my hand, feeling its texture, weight and shine. It’s easy to imagine the brown mousy me rolling this little ring between my even tinier fingers.
I enrolled at A&M in 2020, which was ultimately the best decision. I wanted nothing more than smooth cruising through my four years here, to walk onto the stage with my diploma. In my mind, a siren echoed from the ring, and degree, which meant I was one step closer to making it into the journalism industry vortex. I saw university as a prison sentence — get through another day, silently outwaiting the clock.
It’s such a blessing to be able to attend a college so close to my roots; the grandest of plants are those closest to their roots. But what I forgot was that these roots need nurturing. My aunt was part of the roots that built my foundation — she nurtured and cared for me. I remember small moments when I was seven years old and how proud I was marching with my aunt on campus. Despite living in the UK, my aunt always kept in touch and cheered me on. I still have her letters and cards from over a decade ago, congratulating my “writing accomplishments’’ and encouraging me to keep writing. In other words, her small acts of kindness helped pave the way for my future passions, and I did not even realize it before it was too late.
On Dec. 30 of last year, my aunt passed away after a long and torturous battle with colitis; she took her own life. The whole time I was studying for tests and trying to make notable career moves, I did not realize how much time I had already lost. I lost sight of what really mattered — the people I love. I was so preoccupied with trivial problems that I forgot to ask others how they did. I was so focused on graduation and being a respected professional that I failed to see the destruction around me.
Nothing is more meaningful than our relationships. While the Aggie Ring means a lot, it means nothing without the people who support me. Career advancements are necessary for living, but love gives us something to live for. On its own, the ring is just a klutzy accessory without the people who believed in me even when I didn’t.
And while my aunt will not be there to see me get my ring, I hope she’s proud of me when that moment comes. I try to treasure the small moments I had with her more than the ones I could have had. Life is about small things, small moments and small wins. Getting my Aggie Ring is for those who have and will always support me. On its own, the ring is meaningless. But, as my aunt continues to remind me, the beautiful thing about life is that it’s filled with little moments that, like the little Aggie Ring, are not so little after all.
