Tuesday, October 3, 2006

The day I lost my wedding band

I think I've mentioned that this country is loaded with spiders. They are everywhere. Including bus stops.

I don't think I've mentioned, though, that I seem to have lost weight recently. It's probably a result of the nonstop stress and the fact that I don't have a car. This weight loss has been most evident in that none of my clothes fit properly, but also that my wedding band and Claddagh ring have been slipping off my fingers from time to time.

So, when I took a swing at the large spider that was making its way toward my head as I waited for the 60 bus, my wedding band went sailing. It slammed against one of the walls of the bus shelter and clinked around for a good 10 seconds as I wildly danced around trying to figure out where it had gone. I could hear the sound but I couldn't see the ring. The noise of it bounced against the shelter walls and mixed with the sound of cars on the street. And then I heard the sound fading, as if the ring were rolling away, and then it was gone.

I knew immediately that I wouldn't find it. I could just feel in my gut that it was gone and I felt totally defeated.

A few years ago, when I thought I had lost my ring, I was in full-on ridiculous panic. On Monday night I was just exhausted.

Although, that doesn't mean I didn't try. I determined 20-foot perimeter that I walked up and down several times on both sides of the street. Then I tried to recreate the event by throwing coins around in the bus shelter; in addition to my ring, I also lost 78 pence.

I searched for about 15 minutes until the bus showed up. Realising that the ring was lost, I got on the bus and went to the pub. In the years to come, I will probably emphasise this element.

"Yes, I had lost the very symbol of my marriage. And, yes, marrying Rachel is without question the best thing to ever happen in my life. But a man has to have priorities, so, I didn't let it stop me from going to the pub."

In future telling, I will conveniently delete the 45 minutes I spent staring at the floor when I got there. I had gone to the pub really only because my mind couldn't think of what else to do.

I had worn that ring every single day, no matter what I was doing, for more than seven years. It was simple and scratched up and I planned on wearing it until I died so that all the worms would know that I was a lucky motherfucker. And now it's gone.

Rachel, displaying why the ring was so important to me in the first place, wasn't bothered at all. I told her about it, and she said it was only a piece of metal and we'll get a new one.

We will, but it won't be for a while because we don't have any money. And it won't be the ring she put on my finger when we stood in the heat of early summer and were so nervous that we couldn't even look at each other -- when her parents didn't like me and we had no money and no idea where we were going, and all we did have were two cheap little rings and each other and that was enough.

I still get the girl. I just feel like shit for losing the thing that said without speaking that I'm hers.

Also, I'm pissed that I can no longer make fun of Paul for losing his ring.


Andraste said...

I get your sadness, but still...

Rachel is right. It is just a piece of metal. I like that girl more every time you talk about her.

And I, also, would probably go to a pub immediately if the same thing happened to me. Where I would pout and look miserable, hoping to get some free rounds out of it.

Not sentimental at all, me.

Anonymous said...

Great. Now it's up to me to lose my ring so I can complete the cycle. Shite. Thanks a lot.

Chris Cope said...

Hey, if we all had to have sex with Steph, we all have to lose our rings. Those are the rules of the triad.

Sarah Stevenson said...

I agree with Rachel, but sorry, man. It's hard to lose an item you're sentimentally attached to, regardless of actual value. Think of it as an excuse to get an upgrade...

Rob and I got married in the cheapest rings imaginable--hematite--because the slightly less cheap ones we'd ordered from the Celtic shop weren't ready yet. The hematite ones don't even have sentimental value...just humor value, since they were truly ginormous. We were going to ceremonially destroy them when the "official" rings were ready, but we never got around to it. Perhaps a farewell ceremony for the lost ring is in order? ;)

Huw said...

I feel gutted for you sir. Inform the local metal detector enthusiasts group perhaps?

Rob said...

I wore my ring for 16+ yrs -- I mean, it was never off my finger for all that time -- and then I got divorced.
It's not about the ring, man. Which you already knew.

But I feel bad for you anyway.

David T. Macknet said...

I know it doesn't help, but I sympathize. Yes, it's just a symbol ... but symbols are important. If you do pick up another, though, you may find that you feel much better just for having a ring on your finger, and that it's not necessarily about the ring where your subconscious is concerned.

12 years and counting, and we're both on ring number 4, by the way. Just so's you know.