The Ring

My husband wears his wedding ring 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  There is something about that fact that I really love.

Last night as I lay in bed and he snored, quite loudly, I felt his hand under my pillow and his ring was there.  It's always there.  At night I like to run my finger along it or play with the ring while he sleeps.  Knowing that he has it on all of the time gives me this warm feeling, a feeling of love and devotion.

There is something special about that to me.

Now, there is a VERY good chance that he wears his ring all the time because this his second wedding band.  The first one, which I designed using stones from his mother, is gone.  It's been gone since about a year and a half into our marriage.  Lost, never to be found again.

But I like to believe that he wears this ring all the time because he wants to, not out of fear of losing it.

I know men, my grandfather was one, who couldn't wear their rings.  They worked jobs where there was a possibility that their hands could become permanently damaged if the ring were to stay on.  That did not make their rings any less special.

I also know men who do not wear a ring at all.  Ever.  This is something I find upsetting.  I understand that sometimes it doesn't fit.  Sometimes it's lost.  Sometimes it's forgotten.  But there is something about not wearing it, ever, that bothers me.  I don't know why.

But at night I lay in bed and I feel the cool metal around my husband's finger and it reminds me of our devotion to one another.  It reminds me of our wedding day and our days since then.  It reminds me of the unbroken circle that we have and the strength that the circle possesses.  And I realize that I don't need a ring to remind of all of those things because I have him to remind me.  And it's in that strength I find love, friendship and, often, my own strength.