He Proposed With WHAT?! My Sister’s Ring?!

My sister passed away when I was only six years old, and she was seventeen. Even now, after so many years, I can still recall little snippets of her presence. Her infectious laugh, the way she meticulously painted her nails in vibrant colors, and the collection of posters that adorned her bedroom walls – these are the fragments that remain etched in my memory. After her passing, she became almost like this idealized, perfect angel figure in my mother’s eyes, a symbol of everything that was lost and mourned. Growing up, I always felt this unspoken pressure to live up to her memory, to somehow fill the void she left behind, a task that seemed impossible and overwhelming. When I was around twelve, I stumbled upon an old ring while rummaging through some of her belongings. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy or extravagant, just a simple silver band with a small, unassuming stone embedded in it. For some reason, the ring fit me perfectly, as if it were meant to be mine. I don’t know exactly why, but I decided to keep it. It wasn’t some grand, dramatic act of rebellion or anything like that. I didn’t steal it with malicious intent or flaunt it around to gain attention. I simply… took it. And started keeping it safe. I didn’t wear it all the time or show it off to anyone. Instead, I kept it tucked away in this small, velvet-lined box, and sometimes, when I was feeling particularly sad or missed her intensely, I would take it out and look at it, tracing the delicate details of the silver band with my fingertips. It became this quiet, personal ritual, a way for me to feel connected to her, even though she was no longer physically present. It kinda became this one thing that felt like mine, like my piece of her.
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So anyway last weekend we had this family lunch and my brother (28m) brings his gf who everyone knew he was gonna propose to. And yeah, he stands up, does the big speech and pulls out THE ring. my sister’s ring. the one i’ve kept for like 9 years! his gf starts crying, ppl are clapping. i literally froze, but then I….

My mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. How could this be happening? Was I seeing things correctly? Was this some kind of cruel joke? The joy and excitement in the room felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me. I wanted to scream, to shout, to demand answers, but I was paralyzed by shock and disbelief.

As the celebrations continued around me, I felt increasingly isolated and detached. It was as if I were watching a movie of my own life, unable to intervene or change the course of events. The ring, which had once been a symbol of comfort and connection, now felt like a painful reminder of loss and betrayal. Where did he get it? Did he even know the significance of the ring? Was he aware of the emotional connection I had to it?

Later that evening, after everyone had left and the house was quiet, I confronted my brother. I asked him where he had gotten the ring, trying to keep my voice steady and calm despite the anger and hurt simmering beneath the surface. He explained that he had found it in a box of old jewelry while helping Mom clean out the attic. He thought it was a beautiful, vintage piece and that his girlfriend would love it. He had no idea of its history or its significance to me.

I was livid. I tried to explain to him the importance of the ring to me, how it was one of the few remaining things I had to remember my sister. He apologized profusely, saying he would never have used it if he had known. The girlfriend, overhearing the conversation, was also heartbroken, claiming that she had no idea of the ring’s origins, and was willing to give it back. However, the damage was done. The proposal was tainted and my trust in my brother had been broken. This event brought up a lot of issues with the family that are still yet to be resolved, and it makes me so sad that something so personal turned into such a big ordeal.

Now I am just confused on what to do. Is it right to ask them to give back the ring? Should I just let them live their lives and keep my mouth shut? It all just seems so wrong, and I don’t know how to process this anymore.

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