Friday, February 14, 2014

I lost my wedding ring.

I lost my wedding ring. It happened a few days ago. I was driving. I looked down at my hand. It wasn't there. How could this happen. In 28 years I have had it off only a few dozen times, not for days but just hours or minutes. Each time I would have to wrangle it from my finger. Not likely it could have just fallen off.
What would I tell my wife? It was there and then it wasn't. I stopped the van and began to search. I looked in my pockets, my tool boxes, the shop vac, and even a trash bag full of debris from the construction site I had just left. I called the recent customer and told him my dilemma. I offered a reward if it was found. I turned my gloves inside out. Nothing, where in the world could it be.
My eyes swollen and filled with tears. Yes this is something that would make this manly man cry. I remember picking out the rings with Kim more than 30 years ago, a matched set, asking her to marry me, her saying yes, sliding the engagement ring on her finger, the kiss, her demanding to pay the cost of the band that was mine with her own money.
A few months later my body was crushed in an accident, she stayed by my side. It would be a year before I moved from the wheel chair to crutches to walking again on my own. Just a few short months after that we were married. She slid the ring on my finger, the kiss, the promise.
The ring was a symbol of our love. It identified me as a married man. It matched the one on my wife's hand, bonding us together even more. It was gone. I decided to text  her.
Andy>Headed to Brock's and just looked at my hand, my wedding band is missing. I never take it off anymore. It doesn't come off easy. At this point I don't have a clue where it went.
>Kim Did you take it off when you bathed last night? Or cleaning from the paint?
Andy> No. Checked my gloves, my coats and tool bag. I am going to stop and go through the trash I carried out and look in the shop vac.
Kim> You have trash in your van?
Andy> Yes from tearing down the ceiling.
Kim> I still love you.

There it was, she just made everything okay. "I still love you."

I continued to search but I was no longer dying inside, out of breath or in tears. It was going to be okay. I love her too. Enough that I want everyone to know. The ring symbolized that love but everyone should know by the way I act. The way I look at her. The way I miss her if we are apart even for a day. The ring, the ring, the ring, love wrapped around my finger and on most days I barely gave it notice but it was always there. I could get another ring. Probably close to the one I had. It wouldn't be the same.
I didn't need the ring as much as wanted it but it was a clear message to me that after all these years I want and need her. She is something I couldn't bare to be without.
A day later I found the ring. It was back where it belonged on my hand. It was more important to me than I ever knew. I wanted it there to stay. I am not sure I will ever take it off again.

No comments:

Post a Comment