Saturday, August 30, 2008

The Best of FriedOkra: The Missing Ring, Part I

Originally published July 2007.

Al called earlier today to ask me to look around the house for his wedding ring, as he didn't have it on and couldn't find it anywhere.

It's not here.

Where is it?

I feel like I can't breathe.

Ultimately, a ring is just a round piece of metal. My brain knows this. But my heart. There's so much more to that ring inside my heart. That ring, which I can clearly remember laughingly placing on his hand for the first time just a week before we were married, as on one knee in the family room of our first home together, I offered my own proposal to him. That ring... the one I carried in the pocket of my overcoat as we ran through a cold rain into the little chapel where we were married. That ring that shone so brightly in an otherwise dim and hushed room as the two of us nearly whispered our vows to one another, almost alone, so intimate. That ring I placed on his finger with so much love and amazement, and that I have seen on that beautiful hand - with those long lean velvety brown fingers and short, clean nails - every time I've looked at them, ever since that day. The ring I gazed at through tearfilled eyes as we held hands on the flight across the country for our honeymoon. The ring I nervously and excitedly touched and twisted in bed, snuggling in his arms the morning we found out our Bean was on her way. The ring I can see on her father's hand as he gently and lovingly cradles her head in the photos taken the days after our daughter was born.

I am afraid of the first moment I lay eyes on him tonight when he comes home. I know the sight of his strong hand so strangely bare will bring me to tears.

That ring. Is more than metal. It is alive and real to me... it is a part of my husband and our lives. It is somewhere now, away from us, maybe in the hands of a stranger who knows nothing of its short but powerful history or the souls of the people it has bound together forever.

I want that ring back. No other ring will mean the same to Bean as she holds it in her hand after her parents have gone. No other ring IS... no other ring could BE.

It HAS to come back. It has to.

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  1. I know those feelings all too well. My husband lost his wedding ring in a lake. I called our jeweler. That particular ring was no longer being made, but they still had the mold so were able to get one made for us. My hubby was very pleased when I gave him his ring back for Christmas that year. I hope you found your hubby's ring.

  2. I hope that you do find the ring.

  3. I'm holding my breath until part two. This is beautiful.

    (It also reminded me of the beautiful significance in a wedding ring. About ten years ago, my husband stopped wearing his. We lived such separate lives at the time, I didn't even care. A few years ago, when God shattered our diseased marriage to the core, we took both our wedding rings and had them melted down and remade to signify the rebirth of our relationship thanks to God's grace. My new ring is so much more meaningful to me than the one I had on our wedding day.)

  4. I feel hope, as this is part one, surely part 2 will have a happy ending. I will help in what small way I can. In my faith, St Anthony is the patron saint of lost things. When I lose something I always say this little prayer:

    St Anthony, look around, something is lost and cannot be found.

    I chant that as I look like a crazed loon for whatever is lost and St Anthony always comes through for me.

  5. Oh goodness, my stomach fell when I read this. A few years ago our pastor lost his wedding ring while at our couples retreat. He was just sick about it. When he got home he found it. It had fallen into his cuffed jeans. The ring had been inside that flap of blue jean material, beside his ankle all weekend.

    Praying that it finds its way back to you.

  6. So you must tell us, was the ring ever found? I hope so!

  7. I'll be waiting to hear when it is found.

    Check drains, under things...gravitational pull is strong, so look down, under and between things.
    Be careful of what you throw away until it's found...