Recently I wrote about how I broke my engagement ring. I dreaded telling Wayne what had happened, and if he hadn’t been home when I came home after making the discovery I might have held off on telling him. However, tears were streaming down my face as I brought the bags in from Target and Publix. I couldn’t contain them. It was pretty obvious something was wrong. I had no choice but to spill the beans then and there.
Predictable Reaction
As I knew he would be, he was pissed.
“Can’t you ever take care of anything? Is it really that hard? Well, you’re going to have to wait for a new one. We don’t have the money to get you another one right now.”
Surprise
Another one? He was really going to trust me with another diamond? While it brought a measure of relief, it also caused me great panic.
“I don’t want another one. Just get me a cubic zirconia. That way if I break or lose it, it won’t be such a financial loss.”
“No, we’ll get you something nice. It just won’t be right now. But do me a favor and start looking around for what you might like.”
Do I Really Need Another Ring?
It’s been a month since I’ve been ringless. (I do have a wedding ring, but it’s curved to fit with my engagement ring and is very slender. It looks silly and lost all by itself.) The other day Wayne asked if I’d had time to look for a new ring.
“No. I don’t think I really need one. That way I don’t have to worry about breaking anything.”
“Oh, you need a ring. You’re not going to keep walking around like that. I know you’ve been busy but when you get a chance scope some out. Just don’t buy anything without me. I’d like to be in on it.”
Surprise #2
It really means a lot to him that I have a ring…but it doesn’t mean enough to go out and pick me one himself.
That’s how I felt at first. Then I considered it from a different view: I’m the one who broke it. Why should the burden fall to him to go out of his way to do the shopping?
I know the answer to that. Part of me feels this is his chance to make up for a crap proposal the first time around. I know that may seem harsh, but even he’s admitted more than once over the years that if he had it to do over again, he’d do it better.
Here’s his chance.
Reality Strikes
This is Wayne we’re talking about. The anti-shopper. If I really want to dress my ring finger again, I am going to have to be the one who does the shopping.
I’m not Sally Shopper by any stretch, but some things are more fun to shop for than others. Interestingly, this is not one of them.
I don’t want a “replacement” ring. I want my ring. The one he bought me all those years ago. The one I’ve worn ever since. The one I’m meant to die wearing.
If it means talking to a jeweler about melting the prongs down to form some kind of nub where the diamond used to be, I’m more inclined to go that route I think. It seems more fitting somehow, given all we’ve been through especially this last year, to make the old one work rather than scrapping it for something new.
Or maybe that’s exactly what we need?
Question to Readers
What would you do?
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