I lost my wedding ring this weekend.
Here’s what happened: I went to a wedding on Friday and wore my ring. When I got home, I took it off, but I didn’t put it where I normally (almost) always put it. I knew I had it on when we left the wedding, and I was 99.99% sure I had it on when I entered my home, but from that point forward, I couldn’t remember what I’d done. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought I drank heavily at the wedding, but I knew all I had was water.
On Saturday when I realized my ring wasn’t where it should have been, I didn’t panic. Sometimes I place it someplace else, but I’m never cavalier about it. But some casual looking didn’t turn up the ring, so casual looking turned into frantic looking by both myself and Dave. We had friends who came over that night, and it was all I could think about. I was quiet most of the night as I wracked my brain on where I might have put the ring. I looked numerous times in the same logical places. Places that my ring should have been but wasn’t. I wanted to stay home on Sunday just in case I thought of a new place to look…I’d be right here and I could look in that spot the second I thought of it.
If this ring had been something we bought prior to getting married, I wouldn’t have been quite so upset. But this ring has a diamond from my mother-in-law’s wedding ring, and two diamonds from Dave’s grandmother’s wedding ring. So every day I’m wearing what I always wanted to wear: history. And I’d lost it. How could I lose something so precious? It didn’t matter that the ring was insured because we’d never be able to replace that history.
I sobbed into Dave’s shoulder, realizing I’d lost the one thing I’d rescue from a fire.
History and the people who came before me are extremely valuable to me. The one thing I hoped to get from my grandmother was her wedding ring. Not because it’s particularly valuable (it’s not), not because it’s unique (it’s a rather common style), but because it was my grandmother’s, and she was married over 50 years. What better reminder could I have of wanting to grow old with someone, of the importance of getting through the hard times so you can enjoy the really good times?
I got lucky. We found my ring on the ear of a glass rabbit, which was why we couldn’t see it. But as important as this ring was to me before, it’s even more important now. If I really and truly lost this ring, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I will do everything in my power to make sure that that doesn’t happen. For just a minute on Friday night, I forgot how important this ring was to me. I won’t easily forget again.