thankful thursdays {01.21.2016}

A few months ago, I discovered I lost my wedding ring. The realization left me with an ache down to my core. One would think life has sucker punched me enough, but no, it proved yet again to be full of painful surprises. I searched every where, fingered through the same drawers, and trinket boxes countless times, each time hitting the same brick wall. It happened during the move last summer. At first, I wasn’t too worried when I couldn’t find it at my apartment in Maryland. I was sure I’d left it in the tiny ceramic bowl Isabella made for me at school. She’d given it to me to keep in the kitchen expressly for that purpose, to place my rings while washing dishes. Funny, how she truly is her papa’s daughter. Many years ago, on a trip to Martha’s Vineyard, Mikey surprised me with a little etched, green glass box, for the same reason. He noticed I always took my rings off while cooking, and thought it best to have a safer place to store them.

On my first visit back to the house, I made a B-line for the ceramic dish. I’d since moved it into my bedroom, in preparation for renting the house out. Not there. I rifled through an old wooden box, adorned with a golden yellow and orange ceramic swirl in the center. Another gift from M, for what occasion I no longer remember.

Not there.

I played this game several times, with no success.

Even once I finally came to accept it as gone for good, I found myself rummaging through the same places I’d checked obsessively with each new visit back to the house.

And then guess what happened this past weekend? I’d let out yet another sigh, having checked the end table in my bedroom when I remembered stowing a bowl away in the kitchen closet on my way back to Maryland from Montreal, with a quick layover at the house. I opened the cabinet, and found nothing. I thought to look up, and in a white, milk glass cup, on the top shelf, there it was, along with a few other treasures I’d thought were long lost.

Finding that tiny band of platinum made me feel whole again. I know I can no longer wear it, much as I wish to. It would be inappropriate given my new relationship. I felt a little saddened by this reality. Regardless of how much time passes, and my heart’s capacity to let love grow, my wedding ring is a kind of anchor, a reminder of a very important part of my life.

I wore the ring back to Maryland on my right pinky finger, secured by a thin antique platinum and diamond band I bought myself on Cape Cod 10 years ago. Most people thought it was my actual wedding band, or a gift from Mikey, but it wasn’t. When I walked into my apartment, after a long day of driving, and detour through Brooklyn, I wiggled the ring off my finger, and dropped it into a little clay dish Virginia made that sits on my kitchen counter. The ring fell into place, settling into the center of Michael’s wedding ring. I placed it there when I thought my wedding ring was lost, for fear of losing his, too.

It’s funny how hope works. Just when you’ve lost it all, it’s possible to dig deeper, and discover a hidden reserve to carry on a little further in your journey.

Music Pairing: It Don’t Come Easy by Ringo Starr & George Harrison

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