Claddagh ring

Some of you may be familiar with the Claddagh ring.

The first time I saw the ring was on Buffy. A couple of years later, my cousin bought one for me, all the way from Ireland. I almost cried when I saw it, despite it having been given in one of the most unromantic settings possible.

Rustic charm aside, I've always been big on symbolism (although not quite of the three-roses-means-I-love-you variation), and that was what I loved most about the Claddagh ring. The story of the Claddagh ring, on the other hand, is cliché at best and tacky at worst. Still, it was just how perfectly the symbols fit together that made it tug at my heart.

The heart symbolises -- you guessed it -- love. In another version that I've read, however, it was said to stand for charity -- that, to me, held so much more: a generosity of spirit, not just of the momentary passion that we have come to mistake for as "love."

The two hands clasping the heart symbolise friendship -- the thing that cements and holds together a union of souls. The laughter, the tears, that telepathic understanding.

Finally, the crown, which symbolises fidelity, completes the Claddagh ring: one heart for another -- a wholehearted adoration.

Worn on the right hand, with the crown pointing inwards, means that your heart is yet unoccupied (single).

Worn on the right hand, with the crown pointing outwards, shows a commitment to someone special (courting).

Worn on the left hand, with the crown pointing outwards, shows that your heart has truly been spoken for (married).

I love how that sounds -- to be spoken for.

And yet, it's not about the Claddagh ring, really. It's about realising that there is more to a ring than just the one with the biggest rock, and more to a marriage than just a ring.