I Threw Away My Wedding Ring Today
by Michael K. Reynolds
Looking at my ring finger, there was an indentation where it once resided. A band of skin colored red. Immediately, I experienced a sense of deep loss. I felt the pain of abandonment.
It was nearly 15 years to the day when I surprised my fiancée at the time by escorting her to the jeweler. We were broke, but I had Uncle MasterCard, one of those relatives in the family who seemed to hang around too much during our marriage.
When we walked out of the store, my soon-to-be wife couldn’t stop staring at it, twisting it in the sunlight to watch it glimmer. Although it was modest by most standards, it was stunning to my bride, because of its purity of design. But, more importantly, she was thrilled by what it represented in a lifetime commitment from me.
This wasn’t a promise to be her roommate for a lifetime. Or merely her business partner. It was a pledge to love her, heart and soul, every day of my life. The ring on my finger was my bond.
So my shortcomings as a husband all flashed before me as I stared at the hand which was now bare.
What would my life be without her?
I didn’t like the answer…
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