The Ring

A few years ago, as a new bride I slipped a shiny gold band onto my husband's finger, as we exchanged our wedding vows. My heart fluttered in nervousness, as I struggled with the ring. Afterward, the photographer captured a photo of our hands sporting our shiny new gold rings.

Within a few weeks, Ron had to retire his ring for special occasions, as he was mining almost a mile beneath the surface at Homestake Mining Company. Not only did he manage to immediately bend the ring completely out of shape, but the dust and debris aged it significantly. Plus I worried about his safety in his working conditions. I really didn't want my new husband to be missing a finger.

As a little girl, I remember my mother's uncle was missing a finger, his ring finger. My father didn't wear his ring daily for that very reason. For me, the ring was not as important as the finger.

The years have passed, and Ron has seldom worn his ring, and as a result it has been misplaced a few times. I remain comfortable with his ringless hand and never really thought about it much.

On occasion the subject would arise with friends. One of Ron's friends had a ring tattooed on his finger. Another couple we recently dined with mentioned he would wear his ring no matter what... I paused. I wondered if my nonchalance toward the subject was appropriate. What was I missing that other women felt so strongly about?

As I contemplated these things, I realized that despite the symbolism of the ring, for me the heart of my marriage was there, in my heart. As a miner and diamond driller, Ron is a man who has worked hard for a living. His hard labor is driven by love for his family. I knew his ring was impractical and his hands were very valuable to us.

Recently, I was in the jewelry store looking for a gift when an off-handed remark made by the salesman led me to the wedding ring display. I didn't realize that men's wedding bands were now made in stainless steel, titanium, and tungsten carbide. I haven't been in the market recently :) Anyway, as I listened to his sales pitch, he assured me that tungsten would not bend and required a custom fitting because it could not be sized. According to him, it was also difficult to scratch. As he jabbered on about the benefits of the other metals, I eyed a neat ring for Ron. I liked the dark gray color of tungsten and the simple styling. He doesn't wear flashy clothes or don a suit daily. His hands are rough and calloused and frequently cuts and blemishes appear from work. A fine gold ring looks out of place...but this gray mineral, I liked. Ron had mentioned recently that he would like to wear his ring when he is in a more formal setting, but it is tough shape. Perhaps now was the time.

On Christmas Eve, I presented Ron with a new wedding ring. I had carefully disguised it in a large, beautifully wrapped package. I am sure I surprised him. Though he was disappointed that he couldn't wear it, as he had to be fitted, but he returned to the store the day after Christmas.

Earlier this week, his custom ring arrived. He has been wearing it for a few days, and admittedly, I notice it often, as it looks unfamiliar. Through the years, I have become accustomed to certain things in my marriage. I don't realize how familiar those ringless fingers are...until a new ring arrives.



I like it. Though this ring doesn't match mine anymore. I have gold, he has tungsten. Of course, we haven't had a photo of our hands since our wedding day, so it probably doesn't matter much anymore. Generally, our hands are wrapped around a little hand in safety.

Recently, I have been reading a novel entitled, "Recipes for a Perfect Marriage." I am not sure I love it (ironically...), but it is definitely thought provoking. It has prompted me to reflect on marriage. A union that two people attempt to navigate with all the variables of personality and life. The course is unique to each couple.

For example, our conversation last night...

"Ron, I have been thinking about characterization in the book I have been reading, and I think that it is important that each person have a flaw, as that makes them real."

"Mmmm." Eyes begin to glaze.

Undeterred, I persevere, "I also think that it is best to reveal that in dialogue, and I think I need to incorporate that into my writing."

"Really?"

"Yes, I think the mastery of classics is in the self revelation of the characters where the reader is allowed to draw her own conclusions. Look at Atticus in "To Kill a Mockingbird," his conversation with his kids and neighbors were pivotal to the book, and he had a flaw...he was too trusting."

"Huh."

"Plus I just realized that the conversation doesn't have to be two people talking in paragraphs or even complete sentences."

No response.

"Like us. Right now. I am talking and you are pretending to listen. That tells people all kinds of things about us. Let me see. What can you tell about my character in the last few minutes? And yours?

No comment. Full grin. Fully aware this is dangerous territory.

"What personality type did you say I was?"

"Expressive."

"And yours?"

"Amiable."

It is a perfect recipe.