The Ring

When I was 18, I was presented with the ring. Bought by the love of my life with the last sixteen dollars he had. Nervously in front of the justice of the peace, I accepted the ring and vowed to never take it off. To wear it as a token of my love until death do us part.

With the birth of my first child, my once delicate little fingers out grew the tiny ring. I took it off and placed it in my jewelry box for safe keeping.

Anniversary after anniversary came and I would take the ring out and hope it would somehow fit my plump fingers. No go. So year after year it would be placed back into my jewelry box until the next year came.

The birth of my second and third did not help in the situation either.

I have bought bands to replace the one I could no longer wear. Yet in the back of my mind, it did not hold the love nor significance that the lonely band in the box did. It just felt as though I was cheating.

I know in my head that rings do not make or break my marriage. I could go years and never wear one and it wouldn’t matter to my husband. However my heart feels as though there is a void is in my life. The ring binds us. The ring has been an essential part of my life for almost 16 years.

Tonight, I pulled the ring out of my jewelry box and much to my surprise, it fit. It slid on like it was never gone. A flood of memories came rushing in. From the giggles of a young girl embarrassed to kiss her husband in front of the judge to the trip to McDonald’s after it was over with.

The ring is right where it belongs. Placed upon my finger where my once 18 year old hubby put it. And that is where it shall remain until death do us part.