It probably shouldn’t have been a big deal to me. But it was. After our honeymoon, my husband stopped wearing his wedding ring.
He’s a mechanic and has explained so many times.
“If I held a wrench and touched a battery post, I could lose my finger.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him. It just sorta made me sad. I’d worn my wedding band every day since we married.
A couple of months ago, our daughter told me about a silicone ring for people who work with their hands.
“Think your dad would wear one?”
“They’re only $9. Can’t hurt to try.”
After 36 years of marriage, I ordered my husband a new wedding ring from Saferingz.com.
Was I being silly to care so much?
Would he wear a black, rubber-looking ring?
A few days later, his ring arrived.
The big moment…
After supper, he sat in his recliner. I hid the ring inside my clammy palm. My heart fluttered like we were teenagers. “I bought you a little surprise.”
Does he love me enough to wear a nine dollar ring? That’s the real question.
I gave it to him.
He put it on his finger.
“Will you wear it?”
“Sure, why not.”
I could’ve talked all night , but I could tell–he didn’t have anything else to say about it.
This past Sunday at our porch party–
“I just love your new ring. How do you feel about it?”
He looked at me like I was speaking Pig Latin.
“How do I feel about it?”
“Yeah, I mean–”
“It’s like brushing my teeth and putting on my underwear. I don’t have feelings about it.”
Well, I do.
We both laughed.
You love me enough to wear a nine dollar ring. Because it matters to me.
That’s the stuff real love is made of.
And it only took me 36 years to figure it out.
What have you learned about real love? It’s not exactly what we thought, is it?