Almost two weeks ago while giving Maddy a bath I looked down while washing her hair and realized my wedding ring was not on my finger.
I would like to say I kept my calm and finished up Maddy’s bath before beginning my search for it. The real story was less flattering.
I frantically starting searching the bathtub, the floor in the bathroom, the counters, Maddy’s hair, the pile of clothes in the closet and when all those places turned up nothing I expanded my search. I called Luke with anxiety and a hint of whine filling my voice I shared that my ring was missing. While on the phone I tossed the pillows off the bed, crawled around on the bedroom floor looking under things, looked around the kitchen in case I took it off while cooking, and dug through every bag I had come into contact within the last 2 weeks.
Meanwhile my 3-year-old was still in the bathtub, slightly confused, a little worried and probably thinking her mom had lost it. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Eventually we had to go to Maddy’s gymnastics class, but not before digging through two bathroom trash cans, the kitchen trash and – briefly – the dumpster that I had placed out on the curb that morning for the weeks trash pick-up. I was so out of sorts I forgot I was wearing my bright blue gardening crocs and left the house with disheveled hair.
On the way to Maddy’s gymnastics class I wavered between trying to think calm rational thoughts and fighting the knot in my throat and the tears in my eyes. Repeating things like “don’t worry, you’ll find it,” and “it’s just a ring, it can be replaced” only helped to bring the knot higher and the tears closer to brimming over. I was sure I wouldn’t find it. I was positive a different ring would break my heart.
After taking my time outside the hour long class talking with friends and calming down I came home and found my ring wrapped up in the quilt at the bottom of my bed. I must have taken it off in my sleep or something.
So what lesson comes from this anxiety filled morning?
Some possessions are not just possessions. Some things, even if they are just small circles of metal with pretty rock sitting atop, carry with them a weight that cannot be measured with a scale.
I was anxious and sick to my stomach not because I couldn’t find my ring and I was worried about the cost or hassle involved in replacing it. I was distraught and disheveled because I couldn’t find the thing that I carry with me everyday, that I rarely take off and that symbolizes one of the most important days of my life, the love of a man that I am thankful every single day for and the future that we have waiting for us. All these things and more are wrapped up in white gold topped with a perfectly sparkly diamond and rest around the third finger on my left hand.
I gained some perspective that day. Some things are just things. Some things are so much more and knowing the difference is comforting and grounding and… perfect.
Today as I celebrate the anniversary of the day that the love of my life placed my perfect plain white gold band on my finger I am so thankful for the weight of that ring resting on my finger and the weight of everything wrapped up with it resting in my heart. It may look like just a bit of white gold with a diamond but I know the truth.