Today I’m lucky to have a guest post from The Hubs. He’s sharing the traumatic story of losing his wedding band a few weeks back and his “Lord of the Rings” like saga to get it back to its rightful place on his finger! Take it away Tyler…..
I’m fine with it on other people. It can make a nice accent, and I think it’s more for the ladies than men. Oh, I get it; some guys are fine with chunky watches. My wife bought me one before we were married but I only wore it a few times before it was exiled to my sock drawer. When I was in college, it was allegedly cool to get an earring (I passed). Heck, the state I currently live in practically requires you to wear either a gold chain or a pinky ring if not both. Not for me, though…
But when I got married, I knew I would wear a wedding band. I felt it was an important symbol, so Debra, AKA The Harried Mom, got me a nice plain platinum band which almost never has left my finger since we got hitched on 11/13/04. But a couple of weeks back, that changed.
I lost my wedding band.
I realized it as we were sitting in church. Looking at my hands is something I often find myself doing there. As I locked my fingers together, something felt off. And as soon as I realized what it was, my blood raced cold. I felt an icy realization, followed by my heart sinking. I turned to my wife and panic-whispered, which I didn’t even know was a thing.
“My ring! I don’t know where it is!”
Debra looked a little-taken aback, but she was staying cooler than I was.
How did it even fall off my finger? I wondered. Where did it go?
One thing I knew for sure, I had to find that stupid ring. I mean, I had to find that cherished symbol of our commitment to each other.
Holy Matrimony! Where is my dadgummed* ring! (*not the actual swear word I was using in my brain)
I had to become a modern-day Frodo, hopefully, less troll-like but just as dedicated to finding that ring at all costs, so that it would once again make all things right in the universe. At least, I think that’s what happened in those movies/books. Personally, I didn’t see any of them, but it had to be something along those lines. Google it!
So as our pastor was finishing up her service, it was as good as time as any to begin my quest. I began crawling around on the floor, hoping to find it. Crawling on the floor is certainly a poor way to start a heroic quest, and it isn’t usually something I do when I am out in public, but since everyone was already kneeling I just went for it and hoped no one would notice. No dice, or ring.
Next, I retraced all my steps-up the stairs, down the stairs, on the sidewalk to the car, opening up the car seats to look. Sadly, it wasn’t there either, but I did find several pieces of forgotten Happy Meal toys and cheddar goldfish crackers. I ran all over the church grounds looking frantically in the grass, which was about to become the site of an Easter egg hunt. I wasn’t cheating, I swear!
After I had determined the ring wasn’t at the church, I was ready to leave, even if the rest of my family wasn’t.
As we sped home, I mentally checked off things. Where did I remember seeing it last?
I remembered-at the local mall while my son climbed around on some contraption as part of his scout troop’s “day out.” Kids get tethered to a rope while they climb on planks and wires strung five stories up. In a shopping mall. OK, not exactly like ascending K2, but whatever. While I watched my son , I remembered at one point looking down and seeing the dusty ground at the bottom. Thankfully it did not contain any children who may have slipped and fallen but rather a kaleidoscope of fast food wrappers and cups and other mall-related debris. Ugh, did it slip off there? How would I even get down to that area to find it? OK, not there, I reasoned/hoped.
We pulled up to the driveway, and I started looking around.
We’d just gotten a basketball hoop from some friends, maybe it flew off while I was shooting hoops with the kids?
Figures, I hadn’t shot a basket for years and the first time I do so something dumb like losing a wedding band happens. That’ll teach me to exercise.
Ugh, is it in the grass? What if it gets sucked up by some stupid lawnmower and then chewed up worse than a spoon dropped in a garbage disposal? Was it in the yard?
I’d been in the driveway and yard all day, power-washing chairs and dragging furniture around. That would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, almost literally (our grass is pretty dry and yellow). And don’t even think about looking around dog poop.
Maybe I should get one of those metal detectors, like old dudes buy so they can walk around the beach and pick up bottlecaps and occasional nickels. I run in the house to check the computer. Only $35 on Amazon? I’m in, and with next day shipping to boot!
At this point, Debra and the kids thought I had lost my mind, but I was just trying to keep my mind off of no longer having my wedding ring.
Now that I am indoors I check all of the usual suspects; the bed sheets, the sink, the shower, even the trash can. Nothing.
I call every place I can think of that I was at in the last 24 hours- it’s Easter, and they aren’t all open.
My mother-in-law and sister-in-law show up, and my kids have helpfully ratted me out to them already, which of course, I find out after an embarrassing admission to them about losing my wedding band.
The realization is starting to sink in: I don’t think I’ll ever see my wedding band again. I am quite upset. I mean, it’s supposed to be a symbol. I think about how my dad was buried wearing his wedding band, and not surprisingly, this doesn’t make me feel better.
Debra tries to reassure me, ”It’s just a ring! We are still married!” and deep down I know she’s right. I didn’t think she’d be really upset over this, but I am surprised that she isn’t more upset. Maybe it isn’t that big of a deal. I’m sure a replacement band isn’t that much money (I check online, of course, to make sure). But none of it helps take the sting out of it.
Easter afternoon unfolds, and I still am obsessing over it. Then, my mind suddenly does one of those things your mind can do, the kind of thing that makes you appreciate that you will never begin to understand the strange and wonderful ways it works. I was outside shooting baskets again. I remembered something. Maybe a sound triggered it. Maybe the chemicals that swim around your brain finally flowed into the right place.
I ran into the house and told Debra “I know where my ring is!”
The only place I wasn’t able to call was the place where we picked up our Easter roast, a butcher shop a few towns over. The day before, I was waiting to pick up our order when I heard a loud metallic sound hit a shelf. I thought something had fallen off or something, quickly glanced around, and thought nothing else of it, until now. It had to be my ring flying off my finger!
It was a long wait until the next morning when I contacted the shop. It was just opening, and the guy who opened the shop didn’t know anything about it, but took my name and number, and when the other guys came in, he’d ask. I went to work and waiting, hoping for the best. About two hours later, it came: they had my ring. A flush feeling of relief went through my veins, probably the yang to the yin of the panicked feeling I’d had when I realized losing it in the first place.
The next day, Deb and I dropped off the kids at school, grabbed breakfast, and waited for the butcher shop to open. As soon as it did, the ring was back on my finger. All was right in the universe, and things were back to normal. It was the best feeling I’ve had in a very long time. It’s weird, because, at the end of the whole experience, it was just a return to the status quo. I know I shouldn’t feel that way about an object, but I did.
They say comedy is tragedy plus time. For me, my tragedy was over in a weekend, so I am glad that I am able to, at least, laugh about it a little. Will I lose my ring again someday? I hope not. But I know I might.
Thanks Tyler, it was quite an Easter Sunday in our house. He was quite frantic about it. I just sat back and tried to be supportive while he searched high and low (PS – he cancelled the metal detector). I wasn’t upset at all that he lost his ring. He barely ever takes it off, so I know that it just fell off. It’s not like he took the ring off and threw it away to live a bachelor life. Our marriage isn’t based on rings, it’s based on so much more – life, love and respect. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the ring is back on his finger, but I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if he didn’t find it (hey, I might have gotten a new ring myself out of it –LOL!)
Now it’s your turn to share. Have you ever lost something that was important or sentimental to you? Did you ever find it or get it back?
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