My ex never really wore his ring. His hand was injured in a car accident a year before we wed and he claimed that the intermittent swelling was an issue. He also provided the legitimate excuse of working with machinery, where the addition of a metal band increases the risk of traumatic hand injuries.
The fact that he was ringless didn’t bother me. I grew accustomed to his naked finger and I reasoned that it was only symbolic anyway. After all, marriage is founded on actions, not held in small metal bands.
It didn’t bother me until he left. And then I found his two rings (a “dress” one and a scuffed one) in his office. Looking at them cradled in my palm, I wondered if I should have placed more importance on their absence. Maybe the lack of a ring was a broken window in the marriage.
At least I was able to sell them for $200. A drop in the bucket, but a particularly satisfying drop.
During our engagement, Brock and talked about his ring options a few times. He also has legitimate reasons to avoid a metal band, not the least of which is his almost-daily martial arts practice. However, unlike my ex, he didn’t just leave it at that. He looked at options, problem solved his way around the challenge. He thought about a tattoo (it wouldn’t be his first) but hesitated because of his professional career. He thought about multiple metal bands, a replacement ready to step up when one was lost before time in the dojo. He eventually decided on two rings: a tungsten “dress” ring and a silicone SafeRingz as his everyday band.
A week and a half later, I still get a thrill out of seeing that ring on his hand. That outward sign of a private committment.
It also symbolizes his willingness to work through a problem rather than just give up. A quality that was key to me the second time around.
It’s so easy to dismiss those little things as not important. “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” we’re always told.
But sometimes those little things carry a big message.