Earlier this year I wrote about how I broke my ring. As much as I hate looking at my naked ring finger (which always reminds me that it’s my own fault my diamond’s not perched there anymore), I realized this past Saturday I don’t want another ring.
Looking at New Rings
My heart hasn’t been in the shopping mood anyway, but while we were waiting for a table at Carrabba’s Saturday night, Wayne suggested we skip across the parking lot to Jared’s and see what kind of rings they had.
“I really need to get you another ring. It’s been weighing on my mind. But I have no idea what style you might like.”
That makes two of us.
However, instead of being giddy with anticipation and excitement like I had been back in 1994 when we’d gone engagement ring shopping, I was surprised to find myself nearly overcome with tears of sadness. (Except when Wayne picked a ring that was almost identical to mine. Then I laughed because his tastes are still the same.)
Irreplaceable
My original ring symbolized us making it official that we were soon going to be Mr. and Mrs. Us Against the World. A new ring couldn’t replace that.
To me, it’s like this: just as I couldn’t replace Wayne or my pets if something happened to one of them, I can’t replace my ring either. It’s an original. A new one won’t have the same significance.
Even if my ring’s repairable (meaning we get a new diamond), it’s still not the same. I’ll always know it’s not my original diamond, and I’m not sure I even want another diamond anyway. (After I saw the movie Blood Diamond and learned how diamonds are harvested and people are exploited just so girls can adorn themselves with the jewels, it’s kind of akin to learning what’s in a hot dog. Takes the fun out of it.)
Strictly Procedural, No Romance
I’m still married even though I no longer have a ring to display that status. And you know what? I’m fine with that.
I don’t want to replace it just for the sake of doing it. That’s not romantic at all. It’s just perfunctory.
(Now if Wayne were to come to me and get down on his knees and present me with a new ring while he declared his never ending love for me and that he wanted me to be his wife all over again? It might sweeten the mood and sway my heart.)
But just to put another ring on my finger for replacement sake won’t warm my heart every time I look at it like my old one did. I won’t have the special memory of us getting engaged to make it significant.
So my answer to the title question is, “Nope. I’d rather just have my boring old naked ring finger instead of a replacement ring.”
How do you think you’d feel? (Or maybe you’ve been in my shoes. Did you get a replacement ring?)
Courtney Mroch writes about animals great and small in Pets and the harmony and strife that encompasses married life in Marriage. For a full listing of her articles click here.
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