I belong to a blogging group known as the Group Blogging Experience #2 (GBE2). We have a weekly prompt and then need to tailor a post around it. This week it is a picture of two wedding rings.
I keep looking at this picture thinking that there is no way I can write about it. I am not married. I have no immediate plans to marry. What good will it do for a 30-something year-old to write about her dreams of marriage? That's so cliche.
I took my dog on a walk to clear my head. We both needed to get out of the house and the relentless rainfall had finally cleared a little. On the way we ran into a neighbor I haven't seen in almost a year. She wanted to know how my summer was going. I told her about Dad.
A couple of hours earlier, another neighbor was walking past with her dog when I got home from running errands. Same story.
I hopped back on Facebook and was confronted again with the picture. This time, I got a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
I may not have my own wedding ring as a symbol of love from a significant other, but I have been collecting rings over the past year. My grandmother, Dad's mom, passed away in September of 2010. As we were going through the last of her jewelry, we came across her wedding band. It had been cut off of her prior to her hip surgery some years ago and she never got around to fixing it. With the cut, though, it perfectly fits my pinkie finger. (Grandma was a tiny woman.)
When Dad went into the hospital, he purposely left behind his wedding ring and a cameo ring. I wore them a lot when I was home and he was in the ICU. After he died, I brought them both home with me. Sometimes, when I feel that I need his help in something, I put them on again.
Mom still has hers and I wouldn't dream of taking it away from her. I am sure that some day I will also inherit that one.
Having the rings of my loved ones makes me feel slightly connected to them, even though they are no longer here.
I have my dad's Army Air Corps ring, and wear it sometimes when I think about his teaching me how to navigate using stars and triangulation while we were lying on the nearly-flat garage roof.
ReplyDeleteI have my mom's original wedding ring, an almost microscopic diamond, in a ring guard of rubies that nearly over power it. It's much too busy for my taste, and it's yellow gold, which I'm not fond of. But I wear it, too, sometimes, remembering how she gave it to me when she had to go to the nursing home because some of the people there were admiring it too much for her comfort. She died about a week later.
I know what you mean about rings.
What a beautiful and loving tribute to the symbolism of 'the rings'. There is not much more personal to hold after a loved one has passed than a ring they wore in this life.
ReplyDeleteWeddings rings do bind more than the two who wear them.
((hugs)) to you and your writing just spills love.
It's amazing how so much love can be wrapped up on a little ring. My dad died when I was very young. When I was a teenager, I lost his ring in a movie theatre. I shrugged it off as no big deal at the time but years later I'm very sad about that ring, even though it seems silly to attach sentimental value to an inanimate object years after it's gone. But I think those of us who lost love ones too soon get to be silly now and again.
ReplyDeleteI love that you look at the rings as comfort rather than as a symbol of loss. You look at this picture, and it reminds you of the things you own as comfort rather than be reminded overwhelmingly by loss. You are doing a great job with this. It's a tremendous amount of grief that you are processing. Great job!
ReplyDeleteI'm divorced, but I wear my mother's wedding ring all the time.
ReplyDeleteA touching post, Andrea.
ReplyDeleteLovely and sad post. You will have a reason for such rings in the future I'm sure..
ReplyDeleteSo sorry about your Dad's posting. I miss my Dad terribly! I'm glad you have his ring to cling to when needed. Take care and you never know what the future holds for you. =)
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