My mother is the guiding hand in my life and that of my brother's. Her quiet strength, the times we wished she would tell us what we wanted to hear. Her own pains, her own life's dreams suffering from the rigors, the demands of motherhood. She has never expected anything in return for the sleepless nights fixing broken hearts, mending sibling fences, opening her wallet and her heart to our mistakes. She has never given less than 110 percent.

I plan the September day perfectly- her birthday so often overlooked in the wake of work, family and other responsibilities. Her best friends of many years invited, favorite foods catered- no mess left for her to clean up, and the chilled Pinot Grigio from her childhood haunts of Sonoma County. Family surrounding her, her granddaughter's colorful decorations and endless chatter fill the air.

I can't resist. I have to look one more time at the beautiful Abazias three stone sapphire right hand ring set in white gold. My brother and I labored to save the money. We remember all of the times Mom slipped us a check for the car payment, the rent, medical emergencies, my divorce or just because. We argued over what it should look like, what we wanted it to say and why.

The three deep blue stones, nestled together by the shining white gold, are more than her birth stone- her favorite stone. They are symbols of everything we are and everything she is. The large deeply colored center stone is her- our sanctuary, the gooey can't live without it stuff that brings us together, holds us together. My brother and I, the complimenting stones nestled on each side of her are perfect mirrors of her. Together, although we don't realize it until we look close, we also support her. We represent all that is good and brilliant in her and she in us. My daughter's blue eyes are hers. When it is darkest, I can hear her voice telling me God doesn't give you more than you can handle and I can feel her hold me close to her. Like the center stone of this ring, my brother and I would never reach our potential if not for her in the middle- holding us up, never letting us give up. I close the box and wait until the sun is setting just over the Rockies that grace her backyard. My brother and I tap our wine glasses to gather our guests attention. Mom is glowing in the orange and dusky pinks only the sunset over the Rockies can have. We thank our family and friends for coming and say simply to our mother how we are everything she is and everything we are we are thankful to her for. It is more than just DNA going into a child when you become a mother-it is your soul and we thank her for giving us all of her depth, beauty and quiet dignity much like the sapphires in this ring. We open the box, my brother slips the ring on her trembling hand, kisses her tear-streaked cheeks and we honor with cheers, claps and tears the woman who has filled out lives with love, laughter and color. Than her granddaughter wants to wear it too!