Pages

1.15.2012

A RAZOR, A RING AND A RIGHTFUL AWARD

I lost my wedding ring and engagement ring. Right now I can hear you saying to yourself, "Do you know where? Where did you last see it?". That is exactly what those around me have asked! Here is my answer; I DON'T KNOW! That is why something is called lost - because we have no flipping clue where it is! I am not a "stuff" person in the least. In fact, this week I laughed as I was taking a shower trying to recount if there is anything in terms of a possession (other than writings/letters) that I have from my growing up years. Only one thing could I definitively say I had from my youth. And, I was holding it. My cream colored razor that took refillable Track II razors:) The blades don't stay in all the time as it is worn down quite a bit. I just can't part with it though. All the new reusable razor handles are sissyish now - pink, ridiculous designs and lines. Mine was simple. Creamy tan and without all the flash. I don't hold on to many articles/objects in life. But unless I lost this razor, I planned to continue to shave the sparse hair on my legs through my geriatric years. Even if that meant a piece of duct tape to hold the blade on:) When I do have an attachment to the rare "thing", it is deep and lifelong. I was married 25 years to the father of my great and wonderful daughter. I had a wedding ring, which I only wore maybe the first 5 years or so. I've never been a big accessory or jewelry sort of girl, so I just didn't feel all too natural in it. I ran and my hands would occasionally swell . It was just uncomfortable. Maybe subconsciously there were other reasons I did not wear it. Suffice to say, though married for 25 years, I did not wear a wedding ring. That is, until I met my current husband. We had a whirlwind romance and headed to the city clerk's office for marriage in the first 30 days of our meeting. Doug took me to a jewelry store to pick out a ring. I literally felt anxiety well up in me. When the clerk took out a few rings and put them on my hand, I made an uncomfortable face as I looked at that diamond set against my hand. It just wasn't me. It felt unnatural. I squirmed and fidgeted until both the clerk and Doug commented on my unease. I kept telling the clerk and Doug, "simpler, smaller, simpler, smaller". Doug wanted desperately to buy this big diamond, but I couldn't. We left that day without a ring. I told Doug that I didn't want to pick it out, mine or his. He smiled. The day we were married at the city clerk's office was the first time I saw what he had purchased. He told me what angst he had in trying to honor who I was with his purchase. He nailed it! It was a simple white gold small band which he had soldered to a 1/3 caret simple solitaire ring. After our wedding, we took back to get resized - it was too big. That meant, I had to give it up for 2-3 weeks. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to give it up. I didn't want to take it off. Doug had realized who I was and met me there exactly with it. In combination with that, and how I loved this man so deeply and connected to him in my spirit, mind, soul, and body, I wore the ring constantly. It never left my hand except for a few really overly messy home improvement projects. Even after having it resized, it was still a bit too large. Several times over the last year it slipped off my finger unbeknownst to me. Fortunately, I always noticed it immediately and looked down to find it laying right there. Doug kept urging me to get it resized a bit snugger. I would tell him that I just didn't want to give it up again for a few weeks. I loved it and how I felt when I looked at it. There was a strong connection to why I valued that "thing" so much and it was in direct correlation to Doug. Sitting at a restaurant with friends yesterday, I looked down at my hands and gasped as I saw my ring was gone! They went into panic as well and both husbands began searching the restaurant and path to our car. It was to no avail. I could not even remotely recall when I had seen it on my hand last. Was it at the YMCA two days earlier...yes, I think so. How about the next day? Do I remember it when I was mixing the meatballs with my hands? Oh, I don't know! We scoured the house, the car, the driveway, the sidewalk, the kitchen drawers, the trash, the heat ducts, the trash again, under the furniture, the washer, the dryer.  I even cut open each meatball I had made hoping to find that it had been baked into one of them.  Nothing.  I lay down on the couch and cried.  It was just a thing, but what it had represented was huge.  It was a marker of a huge and intense life change, the beginning of a life of passion, connection to Doug in mind, soul, spirit and body.  I felt the loss of the things it signified.  So did Doug.  He would not leave my finger empty.  We stood the second time at the jewelry counter looking at rings.  I wanted what I had lost.  It could easily be replicated.  I didn’t want a new one, I wanted the one I lost.  It marked the start of so much in my life that is good.  I tried on different rings, but nothing felt right or really caught my eye.  Then I spied it - a beautiful square diamond surrounded by small diamonds set on a simple white gold band. It was considerably larger than the one I had lost. I tried it on and a smile broke out on my face.  That is, until I looked at the price. "That is too much money!" I said as I quickly handed it back before I got too attached to it.  I continued trying on different rings until finally the clerk got back out that magical square diamond ring without me asking for it. She put it back on my hand. The smile came back immediately. She told Doug to let her figure how she could get the price down. I cut some jokes during our session with Lisa, the store manager. She and Doug went back and forth in their deal making venture. I continued to whip my wit and humor about. She stopped and turned and said very excitedly, "You are funny!" That was it. I replied to her, "I know I am!" I then turned to Doug and said, "Did you hear that? She said I was funny!" I left the store with that beautiful, big ring. I also left beaming from Doug's gracious gift to me and that woman's validation of my funniness. I had been vying for the funniest person in our family award for a good long time. Her remark was verification that I was, hands down, the funniest person in the family! Doug asked her, while she was finishing the transaction, "Ok Lisa. Now that you have the sale, is she really funny?" Lisa shot back, "Yes she is very funny! Funnier than you." I had two wins. Three if you counted Doug loving me.  And I definitely counted that one.

3 comments: