Wedding Rings

[Martin Hash]

45 years ago, I bought my wife, Gwynne, a wedding ring, I used the money from selling my Jaguar XKE convertible. (I also bought some skis with the money to go skiing with her.) It was made of so-called “white gold,” and I got it at Best Buy, the first discount big box outlet, that had only recently opened up. I was quite pleased with the deal I got, perhaps half of what I would have had to pay in a jewelry store. Gwynne wore that ring every day, so much so, that eventually the thin part of the band broke. This ultimately resulted in her losing the ring during my daughter’s wedding! Miraculously, Gwynne called the church, and someone had found the ring. She put it away after that, and got out of the habit of wearing it.

During that time, I had lost my wedding ring. In reality, I thought I’d put it somewhere safe while we were traveling for 4 months, but when we got home, I couldn’t remember where that “safe” place was. I thought I knew, and looked at least a half dozen times in all the places it seemed likely I would have put it, but to no avail; no matter how many times I looked, it was never in those places. I fretted on my ring; not a month went by that I didn’t research all the same hiding places. I began to think that I was misremembering, and had really lost the ring; maybe even during the travel trip? If that was the case, the ring was gone for good. Still, the urge would hit me, and I’d search my closet for the ring. One day, I got the brilliant idea that it might be in the next drawer down, rather than in the sock or underwear drawers; when I pulled it open, there was my wedding ring sitting right on top!

Again wearing my ring, I had Gwynne’s fixed for Christmas last year. However, her ring finger had gotten thinner in the meantime, and the ring was loose. Within a month, she held her hand up to show me she had lost her wedding ring. Where could it be?! She’d been trimming the trees, so she searched the ground there first. She was going to look in the back of the truck where she’d put the clippings but it was full so she figured she would look when she took it to the yard debris dump. Chances seemed slim. I couldn’t stand it, and searched through the branches without her. I found her ring! Whew! That was close. Greatly relieved, she put the ring back on her ring finger. Did I mention that it was loose? Within a week, Gwynne had again lost her ring. This time, it had been a couple days before she noticed. We had no idea where to look but, believe me, we looked everywhere; no ring. There was only one place we hadn’t looked; Gwynne went out to the garbage can and looked through the trash. She found her ring again! This time I just stared at her with lidded eyes when she started to put it back on her finger.
“Maybe you should wear another ring,” I suggested. “In case you lose it.”
Gwynne fingered the items in her jewelry box but she didn’t want to lose any of her other rings. Then a thought struck her, and she started rummaging through her bathroom drawers. Triumphantly, she took out a red velvet box.
“Haven got me these for Christmas when he was a kid,” she explained to me, opening the box to show 5 cheap rings, the kind a child would buy their mom.
“I always regretted not wearing these when he was young to show him how much I liked his gift,” she said, then she took a ring out of the box and put it on her ring finger.
I emailed Haven, telling him his mom was finally wearing the rings he had gotten her so long ago. It was all very touching. Within the week, Gwynne had lost one of Haven’s rings. I calculated how long the remaining 4 rings would last, and emailed Haven to get his mom a dozen more.

Haven's Rings.jpg