I found my engagement ring. I felt something sharp under my foot on the carpet in my bedroom. The husband, who was crawling under the bed helping me with the search, said I reacted with an “Oooh.” Right before I sobbed with relief and reclaimed the fragile thread that has been holding my emotions together since this pandemic began.
My ring was missing for one hour. It started when I noticed that the ring wasn’t in its usual spot on my dresser. It is one of three rings that I mindlessly slip on my fingers every day – engagement ring, wedding band, and a sentimental silver ring. For one hour, there were only two. The platinum band topped with a small dark blue sapphire stone was gone.
When the pandemic arrived on my doorstep in March, I remember thinking all we have to do is stay home. That shouldn’t be hard. My home cocooned me, and I felt safe. I didn’t leave. I stayed and stayed and stayed even while the world slowly ventured out. The husband and I started new traditions, my favorite one still happens at the end of each day, when we toast each other with a cold one and a kiss. But the pandemic invaded my house and my mind. I still fear so many things. Most of all, I fear losing the husband. He is my suit of armor. Without him, I just have this fragile thread. And for one hour I lost both.
The ring is us, starting our adventure 22 years ago. We needed nothing but love to commit our lives to each other, without knowing what forever really meant. Over 22 years, love held us together when the journey became rough and unpredictable. When life gave us ugliness and heartbreak, love opened doors and allowed forgiveness to come in. The ring is us 22 years ago, when life was glued with vows and promises. Love, that’s all we needed.
Since March, that love has been my only normal. My protective armor that allows me to sleep at night and face the day each morning. For one hour, my normal was gone. Even as he was on hands and knees, looking under the bed, in laundry baskets, and trash cans. Pulling out clothes from drawers and pointing light under dusty dressers. Not knowing if we would find it but assuring me that it would turn up.
For one hour, micro episodes of our lives going back 22 years flashed through my mind. Walking into the antique jewelry shop together, choosing the simple dark blue stone over the flashy diamonds, remembering that moment in time and what our lives meant to us back then. And him getting on one knee in front of all our friends in our tiny apartment to propose a life together. For one hour all the living stories were turned into a distant memory.
“Ooooh,” I said. He laughed and hugged me while I cried and cried. The next day, he repurposed a small vintage teal ash tray, placed it on my dresser and put my trio of rings in it. My armor. My love. That’s all I need.
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