A Tale of Two Rings

Several years ago, Matt lost his wedding ring. We looked for it high and low, but it wasn't to be found, nor has it been in the intervening years. His hands are already quite small, so when he lost a lot of weight and his hands shrunk, he just couldn't seem to keep it where it belonged. It kept falling off, he lost and found it several times, until it was finally completely lost. He thinks he lost it in the house somewhere, though I can't imagine how that could be. If it were, we'd have come across it by now, right?

Who knows. The point is, we haven't. So, he hasn't had a wedding ring. Though I've shuffled through a whole host of emotions about this particular issue, the most prevalent seem to be annoyance and humor. Annoyance because I feel like he should have to wear it. He's mine. People should know that. The little gold circle gives it away. Humor because he's never been particularly careful about things, nor taken very good care of things, so this is just one more, quite expensive, thing to add to that list. And there's a going joke between us that he lost it during sex, because one of the other times it was (temporarily) lost, it was during sex.

I've considered replacing it, but I can't seem to justify it. He can't wear it to work, they're not allowed to wear jewelry. It would be an expensive waste, it would just sit in a ring box--or more likely, just tossed on his desk or on top of the bookshelf--and he'd never wear it. He came home the other day telling me that one of his co-workers, who is recently married, had lost his wedding ring at work. Apparently, the guy puts it in his pocket while he's working, presumably so he doesn't lose it and so his wife is close to him at all times (awww!), and he had somehow left it in his work pants. At the end of each night, they take their work pants and toss them into a receptacle for the company that comes in and washes their uniforms. Thankfully, Matt knows that the TA's have keys to the receptacle so he helped him get his ring back. That was nice of him, though he probably just didn't want the poor guy to get the third degree I've given him for losing his.

I've even considered replacing both of our wedding rings with new ones for our fifteenth anniversary--just two more years, and a few months--but every time I think about not having mine I can't do it. Every time I look at new ones, I just look at mine, and shake my head. I'm attached because it's the set we got married with. I'm getting sentimental in my old age. Instead, I'm considering getting a new, larger diamond for my set, though I don't know that that's even possible. I'd have to consult with a jeweler.

Then, yesterday, when we were coming back from Melanie's MA hooding ceremony, I swung my handbag over my shoulder and felt my rings fly off--because my rings are too big since I lost 35 pounds or so, early in the year. Frantically, I searched around my side of the car, on the ground, but couldn't find them. I dumped everything out of my handbag, into the passenger seat, in case they fell in there, but they hadn't. I sent Matt inside to check the tray in from on my monitor for them, in case I hadn't worn them and I was being paranoid, but no luck there either. I was pretty sure I'd been wearing them, though, for two reasons. First, because I was wearing my class ring and I either wear all my rings or none of them. And second, because I remembered admiring the sparkle under the recessed lights in the auditorium less than an hour earlier.

All the flack I gave him about losing his rings, and I had managed to fling mine from my hand to, I don't know, somewhere. Just as I started to freak, because scattered all over the ground where I'd lost them were hundreds of tiny golden leaves--and who can find two little yellow gold rings amid that?--Matt found them. He found both of them, my engagement ring and the little gold band we got married with. Whew! I almost had a freaking heart attack. If they had been gone for good, I'd have had to replace them, and that would have broken my heart. But most of all, if I'd lost them I'd have lost the right to give Matt a hard time about losing his.

So, now I'm paranoid to wear them out in public because I'm afraid I'll pull another ring-fling and have to crawl around on the floor in Wal-Mart looking for them. I mean, who knows what's on those floors?! Or, I'll lose them completely and never see them again. A wedding ring isn't exactly the kind of thing you you tag with a "if found please call" number. And, like, I'd lose my upper-hand high-ground about Matt losing his, which just can't happen (I know I already said that, but it bears repeating!). Besides, if I lose them, I want it to be during sex! Ha! (~.^)

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