I can probably count the times on one hand when, sometime over the last 14 years, my ring finger has been empty. I just almost never remove my wedding ring. I do remember the first week after our wedding when we were wearing our rings for the first time, and it felt like I had a little golden spider on my finger, and I would catch glimpses of it from time to time out of the corner of my eye. Now, it’s just part of me, a symbol of how far my wonderful wife and I have come over the years on this journey we are on (along with our three sons).
Last night, I was keeping the score book for my middle son’s basketball tournament game (they won!) and then I helped break down the equipment and put it into storage for today’s tournament game. As my boys and I were walking down the hallway to go out to the van, I reached into my pocket for my keys. Something felt odd. The keys were there, but normally, my wedding ring scrapes across the pocket of my pants (something I don’t ever remember noticing before except now it was a clue that something was amiss). My hand went a bit too smoothly into my pocket. I pulled out my left hand, puzzled.
The ring finger was empty. I stopped dead in my tracks. My sons, who were chatting about the game, stared at me.
“What?” one asked.
“My ring. My wedding ring.” I held up my empty hand. “I don’t have it.”
My brain rushed to remember: when did I last see it on my finger? I could have sworn it was there earlier in the day. That means it might still be in the gym. Great. We rushed back to the basketball court and began scouring the floor with our eyes. I was thinking, a gold ring on a wooden floor … like a needle in a haystack. I went into the equipment room, and opened up some of the boxes with wires for the scoring machine.
“There it is!” my son, who has followed me, shouted. And there it was. My ring had come off when I was wrapping up wires, I guess, and fallen into the box. Phew.
At home, as my wife and I were getting ready for bed, I told her about losing the ring. She got this panic look on her face.
“I took mine off, too,” she said, and now began scrambling around her bedside table. She couldn’t find it. I went downstairs to the “shelf” where she takes it off when she does baking or cooking. She doesn’t want to lose it in the pizza dough, you know? Nothing. Then, “I found it!” The ring had fallen off her bedside table and rolled under the bed, I guess.
For a second there, I was wondering about bad omens and such. But the night ended with two ringed fingers, held together by years of marriage. Disaster was averted!
Peace (in the ring),
Kevin
What a sweet story. I felt panicked with you! Although I don’t think I’ll have that problem since I can’t even GET mine off.
Symbols have their way of growing and intertwining themselves in our lives. Glad your symbols are safe and sound like your lives together:)
You write with such voice and feeling that I wanted to get down on the fools and help you look! Glad you found both rings!
I know that panic of feeling like I’ve lost my wedding ring all too well. The rings have become much more than a ring, but a symbol of a commitment, of a day to celebrate a union. I let our a big sigh of relief at the end. . . .
That’s amazing that both of you had the same experience and both had happy endings. Amazing!
Congrats!
I held my breath as I read, and just as I let it out, I held it again for your wife! Not gonna lie – the young, single me found this so sweet, as I have found that “The Ring” is just not as big of a deal to men in my generation. They may or may not wear it, they may or may not heed the reminder of what it stands for… I love the depth of meaning your ring holds for you.
My husband went through this nightmare on Christmas Eve. He had taken his ring off when he played piano at church and when we got home, he couldn’t find it anywhere. He was devastated and I could not find the words to comfort him. Imaginie our relief the next morning when he pulled his guitar bag out of the car and found his ring and watch caught on the velcro strap of the case!
Truly enjoyed reading this. I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is about the writing that did it but it just flowed so easily, was quick, to the point, and I was thoroughly engaged and liked your “characters” so very much.
Oh yikes! I never take mine off but I clearly remember how odd it felt when I first began wearing one. I don’t wear rings and I’d constantly be wanting to remove it, I didn’t like the feeling on my finger. After almost 16 years, I cannot imagine not having it on.
I am glad you both found your ring. How funny that you both had a similar experience. ” But the night ended with two ringed fingers, held together by years of marriage.” a nice image.
A range of emotions captured in this piece Kevin. it was like a rollercoaster ride. I am fortunate in a way that my knuckle is enlarged from multiple dislocations from my football days and therefore my wedding ring has difficulty slipping past it.
In your piece, I was cheering for a happy ending, I must admit. Phooh!
I could feel the panic. The discouragement and then the joy only to go home and repeat it. I am glad both rings were found. It is good to hear the love you have for your family. That love shines in your writing.
I love the metaphorish feel of this story. When you said you had lost the ring at the basketball gym, all I could picture was the gyms I had been in- gigantic, filled with lots of places for a ring to “hide.” So glad you found it!
How scary. This has happened with my husband but unfortunately he lost his in the ocean. I am glad you found your ring.
Crazy that they were both lost of the same day. Was this Thursday with the full moon?
I have been married almost 30 years, and my ring is a part of my body. I never take it off. I felt the panic and loss with you and the joy of finding it, knowing that a part of you was made whole. Even though it is just a ring. My husband lost his in the waves of the Gulf on a vacation once. We bought a new one and had a sweet private blessing by the priest while everyone else unknowingly were taking communion. He wrap our hands again in his stole. I think I cried. Thanks for sharing.